There were countless years when all I really wanted was a nap. Then some when the thought of a restaurant dinner out-no cooking, serving or cleaning up-was our family’s little Mother’s Day ritual. But our favorite “Mother’s Day restaurant” closed when the economy headed south, and, frankly, the idea of spending all that money to feed our large brood just doesn’t turn me on this year. No. Not this year.
In the Recessionista spirit of “less is more” and Simplify-Simplify-Simplify, all I really want this year is a little something. My hunch is: this is what’s driving you too.
Something a little fun: something slightly impractical that won’t break the family’s bank that she would most likely never buy were it not for Mother’s Day. I splurged with something a little crazy when I took the money my mother always sends me for Mother’s Day and-a few weeks early when I was on a random shopping trip out-of-town-bought a pair of Ray-Ban Wayfarer’s in turquoise. Not your average fifty-something’s choice for a new pair of shades. I admit: they’re a little zany. But hey: girls just want to have fun.
Something a little sweet: chocolate or a cupcake or a big bowl of ice cream drizzled with caramel sauce. Mother’s Day screams: eat something caloric with a high fat content. My husband knows that I can do without an entire box of chocolates…but he better bring me a super dark bar or two to nosh on throughout this coming week.
Something a little tender: we don’t need much, do we? Just enough to let us know that all of our daily sacrifices are noticed…at least one day a year. Tender to me means someone in my family proactively dealing with the dirty dishes in the sink and the clean ones in the dishwasher. The crumbs on the floor and the old food in the fridge. Before I even mention it. Tender to me means having one of my teenagers wash and vacuum my car as a complete surprise. Tender to me means my husband brewing the morning coffee and delivering it to me in bed.
Something a little time-indulgent. An extra-long peek at the newspaper. That proverbial Sunday afternoon nap that almost always seems so out of reach. A leisurely phone call to a friend. Getting horizontal on the sofa with a new book. Painting the forgotten canvas. Dabbling. A pedicure.
Something a little orderly: especially meaningful to those of us who feel like we are carrying the weight of the world on our shoulders is an orderly environment. Whether it means that the kids pick up their loosely-strewn toys or that the teenagers pick up the laundry all over their bedroom floors; whether hubby might kindly re-organize the stacks of magazines on the family room coffee table or that he’ll neatly stack the mail in the drawer. Orderliness breeds creativity. And oh! How we could all use a larger dose of that.
Mother’s Day has a different connotation for every single mom. Some ignore the day altogether. Some require unusually high levels of doting and devotion. I just want a little something.
Whatever you need, whatever inspires you to motherhood with excellence: I am sending along my very best wishes for a most wonderful day. And hopefully, you will have some control over how, exactly, you spend it.