A Real Mother’s Day

Ah, Hallmark. You’ve really screwed us.
I mean, really, who can live up to that sentimental perfection?

The closest thing I’ve ever seen to the reality about Mother’s Day was an episode of The Middle. It was so close to real life it was both hysterically funny and scary at the same time. Now those writers, they’ve seen A Real Mother’s Day.

Food is almost always spilled all over the bed-and by food I mean things like syrup and orange juice. Stuff you can’t just brush off. Wet, sticky stuff that is going to require everything stripped from the bed: king size sheets, blankets, comforters and pillows (oh yeah, if they’re going to knock over the tray-they’re going to do it right!) to be washed. I’m pretty sure no sappy card writers ever write about adding three more loads of laundry to your to-do list. Today.

Sleeping in? Oh no! That breakfast needs to happen at 7 AM. Because that’s when the kids can no longer contain themselves and must burst in to the room to “see if she’s awake yet”! Um, sure. Am now….

I’m pretty sure in those sentimental movies, when mom finally emerged from her wonderful hours of rest and relaxation behind the closed bedroom door, the house was perfection: cleaned and spotless, everything put away and no evidence of that perfect breakfast tray. Um, yeah. This has happened in no one’s life that I’ve ever met. After a few years of greeting the kitchen disaster that was caused by the breakfast in bed standard, I finally asked my husband to never make me breakfast in bed again. For the life of me, I still can not come up with why he needed each and every bowl and utensil we own. Or how anyone can get that much batter on the counter in the preparation of one meal. One. Meal.

Then there’s the gift. The wonderful, sentimental, meaningful gifts that bring Mom to tears. I have no idea who is getting those, but I’ve never met her. The commercials in April telling us about the perfect piece of jewelry to express what mom means to you are airing for someone. I’m just glad my husband stopped letting the kids pick out their idea of what I might like. Seriously, no child should be turned loose in Wal-Mart to figure out the perfect thing for mom. That’s a lot of pressure for a 5 year old. And, I’m not sure they understand yet that it’s supposed to be something that MOM wants…. This gift, that they set their hearts on, which no matter how ugly, gaudy, completely inappropriate or just plain ol’ strange must be proudly worn or displayed. Have you ever seen what happens to their little faces when you aren’t in love with it? Sometimes there is no amount of acting skill that can make that awful gift seem like a good idea. Therapy, one of you is headed for it.

Then there’s that idea of the perfect day. I don’t know what that is. By noon my husband is typically back in his usual position: on the couch, in front of the TV, laptop on his lap, gaming headphones on. Or as the dad from The Middle put it, “it’s your special day with the kids hun, see ya!”

I don’t know that I buy into the current idea ruling the internet that moms want a day away from their kids. Surely there has to be something between that mystical, magical, and special day of family bonding and bliss (I’m having trouble just writing it with a straight face!)- and the internet winner of a full day away from the kids. I just don’t know what it is! Because I’m pretty sure I can’t get all three of my kids to have a day without fighting that doesn’t involve a lot of bribery. Which at their ages, is going to cost me a lot.

This year will mark my 17th year celebrating Mother’s Day as a mom (depending on who you ask, my husband doesn’t count the first as I was days away from delivery. No baby yet, no Mother’s Day) and each year it’s a little different.

I can look back with humor (and sometimes fondness) on the spilled breakfasts, extra loads of laundry, hours cleaning kitchen explosions, the (sometimes bizarre) gifts and general lack of sentimental expressions from my family. They may not be great at putting on a show on Mother’s Day. Hallmark-worthy, we are not. If there’s going to be a movie that features how we act and interact, it’s not going to require tissues. Unless you laugh so hard you cry.

Appreciation for all that I do and have done may have to wait until adulthood comes knocking. I’m fairly certain that’s normal though. But, I have no doubt that I am loved. Mother’s day isn’t so much about me, it’s about them showing how much they love and appreciate me in their own special way.

I can go buy myself something really nice in honor of Mother’s Day. I’m pretty sure that’s what the day after Mother’s Day is all about…..