The Sweetest Mother's Day Gift!

Sometimes, I want to be the wealthy friend. The one who rolls up in her shiny new SUV to the playdates looking fabulously trendy, clutching an $8 coffee with manicured hands.

I want to be the wealthy friend who gets her hair done every six weeks on the dot while the babysitter watches her kids. The one whose space is immaculately clean because, well, the cleaning lady comes once a week. When she hosts playdates, the snacks and beverages are the best.

I want to be the wealthy friend who spontaneously takes trips whenever she pleases because she can. Who sometimes orders appetizers for the whole table to share and fancy $16 cocktails. Yes, I want to be that friend.

But I know my place. I am the scrappy friend. The one who rolls up in her well-loved SUV with crackers crushed into the seats and mismatched shoes littered on the floor. The one who sometimes looks put together on a good day and appreciates when you notice as she clutches her homemade coffee with her unadorned nails.

I am the scrappy friend who gets her hair done every six months while you watch her kids. (Sorry.) And I’m the one who will gladly host a playdate if you need to feel good about the condition of your own semi-messy house and the status of your less-than-well-stocked refrigerator.

I am your scrappy friend who inspires you to travel more because if she can afford it, then you can too. Who always asks to split the bill at dinner. Who will take your leftovers like a vulture if you offer them and who only orders drinks off the happy hour menu. Yes, I am that friend.

But it’s okay. Because I know you’ll always be excited to call me when you got a killer bargain or need to vent about an unexpected expense. I’ll be the one to pack a lunch with you at the park instead of eating out too since we already blew our grocery budgets for the month. The one who reminds you not to bother keeping up with the Joneses and commiserate when you sometimes wish you could.

I get it—sometimes I want to be the wealthy friend too. The truth is, the grass is always greener in her lawn—she pays someone to upkeep it for her.

You and I—we are watering our own grass and learning to appreciate it too. It feels good to enjoy what we have, doesn’t it? To feel gratitude sprouting in us like little blades pushing through the earth. So let’s be content, you and I, because we have a lot to be thankful for.

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Kris Ann Valdez 

Kris Ann Valdez is a proud Arizona native, wife, and mother to three children. Her personal essays have appeared in Motherwell, Her View from Home, Motherhood Mag, and elsewhere. Follow her @krisannvaldezwrites.

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