Saturday, May 7, 2011

Best Mother's Day Present Ever


Tomorrow will be my sixth Mother’s Day.

Wait, you say. Olivia’s only four...?

And your point is…?, I reply.

Because, really, let’s be honest here: even though there was no baby to hold or change or burp, my body was busy cooking up a healthy kid.

Between the nausea, backaches, swollen feet, varicose veins and the general itchiness of skin stretched almost to its breaking point, I was gonna get some presents and a day off dish duty.

That first Mother’s Day was wonderful and sweet. 

I never dreamt it would be the most relaxing one I’d have for a long, long while.

Nine-month old Olivia didn’t get the memo that Mom was on holiday. She was teething and wanted to nurse all day. Happy Chew Toy Day.
On a break.
May 2007.
Almost two-year old Olivia spent the day screaming in pain from hand, foot and mouth disease. She curled in my lap and yelled two things over and over: “Mommy” and “no.” This ranks as one of the top 10 worst days of my life.
Prospect Park, the day before Mother's Day 2008.
Soon-to-be-three-year old Olivia was now healthy and drinking milk out of a cup, but Fletcher – still camped out in my belly – was driving me batpoop. It was Contractions: Day 8. If I did anything more strenuous than stand up, the Braxton Hicks kicked into high gear. Lying on the couch isn’t nearly so relaxing when people are staring at you, waiting for you to pop a kid out.
Baking with Grandma Martineau while Mommy lies on the couch.
May 2009.
And last year, with the kids almost 4 and 1, Clay had to work. All day. Guess who did the dishes that day?
No, Fletcher didn't help.
May 2010.
These were not the Mother’s Days I’d imagined. They were just regular days with presents.

But one present, given every year, made my "Day": 20 minutes to relax, enjoy a cup of coffee and read the paper.

This is something I imagine every Sunday. It pretty much only happens on Mother’s Day.

Clay gives me 20 sanity-returning minutes that allow me to parent a little further from the edge of a complete psychological breakdown. 

Even if he has to lock the kids and himself in another room.

Or serve the coffee after the kids’ bedtime.

Sometimes the coffee arrives on a pewter tray. Sometimes in a paper cup. Always with the Daily News, New York’s Hometown Paper.

Not this year. The Daily News is not to be found in the metro Atlanta area.

I guess I can adjust to the Journal-Constitution. As long as there’s coffee and 20 minutes of quiet, I can do just about anything.

2 comments:

Rachel said...

Fun recap! I totally get the "not always what it's cracked up to be" thing... but it's still nice to have a day dedicated to us, even if we can't truly get away from our nursing, tending, and feeding duties!

Kate said...

This Mother's Day was fantastic. No one was sick. Everyone was happy. And we all napped. Perfection.