I don’t expect my husband to buy me flowers or a spa gift certificate. I’m not his mother. His mother passed away seven years ago. He used to buy lobsters and cook them for her. She loved that.
And I am not the mother of his child. His daughter will be spending the day with her mother.
I also don’t expect either of my two kids to give me anything. Neither one of them has a job. They don’t drive. They’re teenagers.
The first couple of years after my children’s father and I were divorced, we would each take the kids shopping to buy gifts for the other’s birthdays, the respective Mother’s and Father’s Days and even Christmas and Hanukkah.
And it was a really kind gesture. One that the kids liked and made the two of us feel good. Normal, almost. But at some point, after a few years, we just kind of stopped. Neither one of us said anything about it. It just kind of organically happened.
But even without the gifts, this Mother’s Day will be special because, in addition to being with my kids, I’m spending it with my mom.
My parents are getting here on Saturday and are spending the night. And I think we’ll do something different. Something out of the norm, like go down to the beach in the late afternoon. It’s the best time of day there.
We’ll bring some snacks like a baggie of roasted chickpeas and some cheese and crackers. And some drinks. For the kids? Water or a special-occasion Coke. For the adults? A little vodka on the rocks with a twist for me and my mom. And some Bourbon or Scotch for the men.
Once back home, we’ll all help, kids included, to make a nice dinner. We’ll sit around our big table and talk and laugh. I’m sure at least one person will make a toast to the mothers at the table, to my husband’s mother whose absence is still painful and to my mom’s mother who died last year.
Sunday morning, my mom and I will be the first ones up. I’ll pour us some coffee. We’ll sit around the breakfast table, reading the New York Times and commenting on this or that interesting thing we just read. It’s one of my favorite things to do with my mom.The kids will lazily come downstairs and give us both bigger than usual hugs. Even some kisses. (My 15 year-old son thinks he’s too old for that but my 12 year-old daughter will still sit on my lap.)
As for gifts? Pshaw. I’m just hoping that my kids will clean their rooms without me having to ask five times. And save all of their fighting for Monday. That can be their gift to me. A true display of love and affection.
It’ll be a perfect Mother’s Day.
But I could still really, really use a new dishwasher. Maybe I’ll get it for my husband for Father’s Day.
Image via Teleflora