I love how so many of my friends were celebrated today. Flowers, time at the spa, beautiful gifts. A time for celebration. But that’s not Mother’s Day. This is Mother’s Day:
Get ready, which consists of putting on comfy clothes. No hair or make-up done.
Drive to my dad’s to check in.
Unload and put away groceries.
Change the cat litter. Clean the cat poop up in basement because the cleaners locked the cat in the basement all day and he needed to relieve himself somewhere. Clean up the cat puke in an upstairs bedroom because the cleaners left the door open and the other cat ate the plant and threw up. Sweep.
Start three loads of laundry. Strip the sheets.
Unload the dishwasher. Load the dishwasher.
Welcome home a miserable 4 year-old as she is over tired from time away at Grandma & Grandpas. Cries because she threw a toy on her leg. Made supper that she didn’t want to eat.
Cries because she pointed the new spray suntan lotion towards her eyes and I told her not to. Got her into the tub. Cries because she wanted her dad. Screams. Mean splashes. Took away treats tomorrow because she kept splashing. Got her out of the tub. More cries. “I miss my daddy.” PJ’s. Still crying and missing her dad.
Cries because I wouldn’t give her a sugary treat for a bedtime snack. Still crying. Got her into bed and I just started reading her a book and she calmed down. We read two long stories. Cries because I wouldn’t read a third. I sang to her and rubbed her back. Then turned on Care Bears Lullabies music and the cries settled down as I continued the back rub. Finally…calm.
I gave her kisses, told her I loved her. Started to leave the room, paused, came back and kissed her again and told her I loved her again. Left the room.
10 minutes later, went back upstairs to check on her. Soft snores.
That’s Mother’s Day. And I loved and appreciated every moment of it. Even through my own tears…