Momservation: The day after Mother’s Day is like a hangover. It was a great party, but now back to the real world.
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I’ll give my husband an “A” for effort on Mother’s Day. I could see the guy was really trying.
I’m gonna have to give him a “B” for execution though.
Unfortunately, he’s teetering on a “C-“ for demonstrating ability to not make a bigger mess for Mom to clean up when her 12 hours of being pampered are over.
The first thing to go wrong was a supposed breakfast-in-bed start to the day. After lying in bed until nearly 8 a.m. waiting for anyone to wake up and sniffing in vain for the smell of bacon, I gave up and got my own hot chocolate.
Then, since I was the first one up, I got to be the one to clean up the dog and let him back in the house after another night of, let’s just say for the sake of the gross out factor, gastrointestinal problems.
I got my own Sunday paper, snuck something to eat so the kids wouldn’t be disappointed I already ate, and decided to enjoy a beautiful quiet morning outside. Of course, that’s when everyone decided to wake up and interrupt my solitude.
Then since everyone else slept in, we all had to rush to get ready for the next scheduled event – a trip to Sonoma to see my niece at college and gather for a picnic with the other mothers of the family. I could see Hubby was trying not to get annoyed with me on Mother’s Day for my leisurely pace, but on this day – I would not be rushed or lift a finger to get anyone else ready.
We quickly realized people are not just sending cards and calling Mom on Mother’s Day. The highways were jammed with people. Our short trip turned into a long trip turned into grumpy kids and a mother desperate to not yell at her kids on Mother’s Day.
The lovely picnic (because I didn’t have to do anything to organize it) and pick-up game of family baseball helped me return to my Serenity Now. I gave myself a free pass and ate all the cake and cookies I wanted. I didn’t even have to sunscreen any kids myself.
But the return trip home found even more people traveling to see their mothers and it soon stretched past a scheduled BBQ chicken dinner I was so looking forward to. Hubby dashed over to Bel Air to grab a rotisserie chicken when we got home to go with his homemade macaroni salad he prepared the night before in his plans for the perfect Mother’s Day.
The kids showered me with homemade cards and gifts, Hubby picked out a perfect card, and I was sent to bed to watch my favorite shows without having to clean the kitchen or get the kids ready for bed (the best gift, actually).
Then I woke up the next morning and the princess had turned back into the pauper. I had to trudge into disaster rooms (clothes, bathing suits and towels from the day before and card making supplies strewn everywhere), wake up grumpy, overtired kids for school who were back to not listening to me, and before I could make breakfast had to clear off counters covered in dumped picnic clutter and the mess of mommy taking a day off.
There were no spoons because the dishwasher needed to be ran, my son was out of underwear, the dog had pooped on himself again, I forgot to fill out the field trip permission slip, we had no fruit for lunches, kids couldn’t find shoes, my email box was full but I had to take the dog to the vet, my daughter needed more sun screen for swim practice, I needed to get checks in the mail, I didn’t have tortillas for dinner, my husband wanted to know if there was time to squeeze in his buddy’s baseball game before dinner, and everyone was saying, “Thanks Mom,” as they ran out the door.
Mother’s Day is officially over and I have the headaches to prove it.