What I Really Want for Mother’s Day (2013 Edition)
Sitting here with my four and two-year-old before bedtime, catching up on one of the many Nick Jr. shows we have saved on the DVR, I think about what I really want for Mother’s Day. The obvious answer would be that I want the day off from work, but in the hospitality industry, that is near impossible. The next thing my husband would predict I would say would be a massage and a facial. But honestly, I’m ok with working on Sunday and missing out on a day of pampering. What I really want (and what I think most moms of four and two-year-old’s want) may surprise you.
I want to freeze time.
I want to take a picture of this very second and keep in a filing cabinet in my overly cluttered brain under the title “moments that make life worth living.” I want my daughter to ask me to pick out a bow for her, because I’m certain the day will come that bows will be for “babies” and her once hip mommy will know nothing about what she likes. I want my two-year-old to ask me for a hug (or “a big cuddle”) because one day he will be embarrassed to even be seen with this old lady.
If my kids asked me what I wanted this is what I would say:
I want to go to the beach with you and jump as the waves hit our ankles and shriek with excitement. Probably when you’re a teenager, you’ll just want me to drop you off so you can sun with your friends. I want you to make me a messy, mismatch hand print picture, so when we aren’t together, I can wish we were and fit your hand in mine. I want to reach back while driving and give you a French fry (after cooling them with the air conditioning vent). I’m certain one day that you won’t want to go anywhere with me, especially a fast-food restaurant.
I want to go grocery shopping so I can see the joy you get from a free cookie and slices of turkey and cheese. One day I’m sure I’ll grab the rocket ship double shopping cart, only to remember my once little people are taller than me. I want to watch you giggle with excitement while you play a silly game on my iPad. Sad is the day I power it up and see only grown-up Apps.
I want to ride bikes around the neighborhood with you, then lay in the grass and talk about the silly animal shapes the clouds form. I can’t imagine my future 14 and 12-year-old on their backs in the front yard with me! And as I sit here, snuggled between the two of you, watching a Max and Ruby episode I’ve seen many times before, I want to do just this very thing, today and even on Mother’s Day. I want to remember you as you are at this very second. So Moms, relish in your day and your accomplishment of making a wonderful, perfect little being. If I’m lucky enough to receive a card made of tissue paper or a clay handprint steppingstone, that’s all I would ever want. Oh, and a big cuddle, of course.