All I want for Mother's Day: All my children with me

Tonight, on Mother’s Day Eve, which is a new holiday that I just made up, I find myself fantasizing about how I want tomorrow to go. I want to sleep in. Late. I want breakfast in bed, as per tradition (Pop-Tarts with the wrappers off!) and I want to, for twenty-four solid hours, not CLEAN THE F’ING KITCHEN. Not once. I don’t want to empty the dishwasher or wipe a countertop. I do not want to cook ANYTHING. I don’t even want to make a freakin’ sandwich for myself.

Tonight, on Mother’s Day Eve, the new holiday that I just made up, my sons are at a friend’s house. It’s late. Eleven. They told me they are getting a ride home with a friend,. I’m hopeful (but “when teenage boys plan things”).  I gave them cab money, just in case.

And I sit in the basement and watch “Legends of the Guardians” (Umm, can’t recommend it) with my husband and daughter and think about the  Mother’s Day dinner we had tonight  with my parents at The Olive Garden in Schaumburg (My mom had coupons.Two of them.) and I worry about my sons. How are they getting home?  Is it defined? We need to leave right now! Get them home! And then it hits me, what I want for Mother’s Day. I want them with me. All of my children. WITH ME.

The gift of our children in our lives, it’s so short. Too short. Oh, here they are. The front door is open and the dog is going batshit. My sons are home. And here is what I know: I regret every single minute, every time I couldn’t sleep because I was worried about some stupid crap: my job. The recession. Mice in the garage. Something I said that someone else took the wrong way. Book sales. An outfit I wore. A mean comment on a blog. WHATEVER. Every single moment I spent worrying about some stupid crap when I should have been celebrating life with my kids.

I should have celebrated Every. Single. Night. My children were home, under this roof with me. Every night. Because that is the true gift. The Mother’s Day gift. The days when our children are with us.

So that is, now, all I want from tomorrow, one more day with my children. But if I didn’t have to clean up the kitchen after them, well, that would be nice, too.


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Filed under: Family, home, Marriage, Parent, Teenagers

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