All occasions worth celebrating (Easter, birthdays, Christmas, New Years ...) in this house, include a Pillsbury cinnamon bun breakfast. They bake in 8 minutes and one package does our family for a delicious breakfast without over-doing it. S and J eat the tops with the icing first, having honed their skills eating the tops off cupcakes for as long as we've been allowing them to have sugar. I had my morning coffee made for me.
We then headed to the living room for the opening of presents. Along with lots of cuddles. The presents is my favourite part. And not because Husband bought me the purple mini laptop of my dreams. We have a firm "don't spend money on anything except for the cinnamon buns" on special occasions such as these. The gifts are handmade at school and the pride with with the offerings are presented is overwhelming.
J Boy said "I spent ALL afternoon on Friday on your gift!" (who cares about arithmetic!).
S wanted to augment her gift and so had Husband carefully undo the packaging so she could add a red marker and Diego's field journal.
The gifts were precious and even practical enough to be enjoyed throughout the year.
It was pretty much your storybook, Hallmark Mother's Day.
And then J wanted to show off the progress he had made on his computer game. He wanted my help to finish the level. He then got frustrated on my behalf when I kept "dying". He slammed doors and oozed hostility but eventually drifted off to another room. I finally made progress on the level and, as is our custom, I called him when I knew I had it figured out so he could enjoyed the victory music. He demanded that I re-do the level so he could see how I did it. Not an unreasonable request for a boy whose brain demands understanding the hows and whys of life. I was willing to do so but I was still in my pyjamas and we needed to be leaving for church shortly. The delayed gratification of completing the level after church caused a circuit to be blown and it was a long road back.
On the way out the door to church Husband knocked over a large bag of Skittles (fruity candies), which I had placed in a bad spot on the stairs as I needed a proper container for them before leaving them in the car for bribery purposes (usually so S doesn't fall asleep at 4 pm).
At church I taught Sunday school and had 11 kids 8 and under making peacocks out of paper plates and foam shapes (Praise the Lord for Google ... you can find crafts on just about anything). The noise level and energy was worthy of Richard Simmons.
It took us a while to leave church as we had to find J's keys (some old keys) which he had hung on the chain of the bulletin board in the Sunday school room. On the way to the car, J wanted to jump down 6 feet into a flower bed. He ignored my direct order not to do so. I didn't want him to crush the small plants.
I leave church making such uplifting statements such as "next Mother's Day I am spending alone". and "thanks for taking the fun out of my Mother's Day".
I was feeling more than a little sorry for myself. I lectured J on respect and flower beds and LISTENING TO YOUR MOTHER.
I was ready to fax my resignation to the Mothers' Central office. I walk in the door and see the carpet of Skittles. "WHO IS GOING TO CLEAN THEM UP??" I asked no one in particular. This Mother's Day was really starting to blow chunks.
"I will", says the chore-averse J Boy. And he did quite willingly.
That gave me a minute to remember some Moms won't have their kids with them this May because of cancer or car accidents or other hideous circumstances. And some kids won't have their Moms.
And I know in a few years, I'll be lucky to get a "Happy Mother's Day" from my kids, when their worlds will revolve around friends, activities and computer games.
And so I embrace being a Mother to the kids at this age, which includes frustration, aggravation and defiance. But also joy, sweetness and a great sense of fun. And lots of cuddles.
I close with J's Mother Day Poem:
Guess How Much I Love You ...
I love you more than my favourite game in the universe.
I love you more than the juicy taste of a gummy bear.
More than S loves babies
More than Dad loves chocolate bars!
Guess how long I'll love you?
I'll love you until a meteor lands on earth.
Till the sun runs out of energy.
Till the earth explodes.
Until everyone in the world dies.