What I want most for Mother’s Day . . .
I want to spend the day with my kids, but as the backup parent. Kids asking someone else where the ketchup is, to untie the Barbie apron, to get them yet another snack. I want to be there but not work.
I want to sleep. Nothing crazy, but like a full 10 hours without someone wetting the bed, waking up early, or a dog getting sick in the night.
I want to not be in charge. Just be there enjoying the kids, hanging out. Sometimes all the being in charge drains me, keeps me from enjoying my kids.
I don’t want to think about what anyone is going to eat. All day. (But I want them to still eat healthy—I just don’t want to plan it.)
I want to have a long talk with my best friend—it doesn’t need to be in person, but could be. I don’t want it to be interrupted by my son wanting to say hi to her daughter (as cute as that is) or someone fighting so I need to call her back. Or using code words as we speak over Bluetooth in the car with kids. A real conversation.
I want to see my mom and my sister, but I don’t want to have to host. Just an easy visit when I don’t need to think about all the brunch details but focus only on being with them.
To have a quiet dinner with my husband after the kids are in bed. It doesn’t need to be fancy, but it would be great if it could be like one hour, uninterrupted.
It would be nice to get outside with the kids. Watch them play. Have them get along the entire time.
Some me time, maybe like an hour alone in my house to drink coffee and look at whatever I want on Instagram.
To take a really cute picture of all three kids. A moment that says, right here—this little minute—everything was perfect.
A picked-up house—it doesn’t need to be spotless but a step up from what it usually is.
On Mother’s Day, I want to be a passive parent, not a planner.
I want to be the worker—the relaxed worker—not the CEO.
All I really want on Mother’s Day is to be me with my kids and to put me as “Mom” on the back burner. To enjoy my littles with the luxury of not planning, preparing, parenting . . . but instead just being.
That is my perfect version of Mother’s Day.