I hope everyone had a lovely Mother’s Day. I did. It started with my husband making breakfast for me. We used to go out for breakfast, and even earlier, the kids would help make breakfast. But now he makes the meal, which is always better at home.
I remember plenty of times, waiting to be seated at a restaurant, the kids whining about being hungry, or complaining their favorite cereal wasn’t on the menu. Neither one of them was much into eggs or pancakes. And with what restaurants charge for a bowl of cereal, you could buy a couple boxes and eat for days! Add the fact that the kids don’t want to get dressed and eat out in the first place and breakfast at a restaurant doesn’t seem worth the effort.
That’s when we began to make breakfast at home. What a treat. My husband can cook; don’t get me wrong. But cooking with children isn’t his strong suit, and that’s saying it mildly. What’s supposed to be the morning Mommy gets to sleep in becomes a comedy of errors. That’s when you don’t want an open-concept floorplan, because everything that happens in the kitchen drifts up to my bedroom.
For example, my older son would help his dad with the toast, as well as cutting a flower for me from the rose garden. The younger boy was in charge of setting the tray. Unfortunately, he wanted his brother’s chores, and would loudly complain. And the older one would capitalize on that, telling his brother to quit complaining. Soon the din would be so loud that sleeping in was impossible. And of course, the toast invariably became burnt.
I remember plenty of times, waiting to be seated at a restaurant, the kids whining about being hungry, or complaining their favorite cereal wasn’t on the menu. Neither one of them was much into eggs or pancakes. And with what restaurants charge for a bowl of cereal, you could buy a couple boxes and eat for days! Add the fact that the kids don’t want to get dressed and eat out in the first place and breakfast at a restaurant doesn’t seem worth the effort.
That’s when we began to make breakfast at home. What a treat. My husband can cook; don’t get me wrong. But cooking with children isn’t his strong suit, and that’s saying it mildly. What’s supposed to be the morning Mommy gets to sleep in becomes a comedy of errors. That’s when you don’t want an open-concept floorplan, because everything that happens in the kitchen drifts up to my bedroom.
For example, my older son would help his dad with the toast, as well as cutting a flower for me from the rose garden. The younger boy was in charge of setting the tray. Unfortunately, he wanted his brother’s chores, and would loudly complain. And the older one would capitalize on that, telling his brother to quit complaining. Soon the din would be so loud that sleeping in was impossible. And of course, the toast invariably became burnt.
Breakfast in bed had its own perils. My husband would carry up the tray, while one boy would bring the flower, and the other would bring the sugar for my tea. Usually the tea sloshed on the tray, and more often than not, the flower wasn’t in any water. But their beaming faces made the meal a Michelin-star repast! Except for the time my husband stubbed his toe on the foot of the bed and dumped the tray in my lap. He’d like to forget it, but I never will. The boys laughed until they cried, he was furious, and I wasn’t real happy to wear my food, either. But that’s one Mother’s Day that stands out in my memory.
Now my Mother’s Days are much more relaxed. One son is moved out with his own wife. He calls me, and this year will bring my gift down with him on Memorial Day. I can wait, knowing that since he’s in Army Intelligence training, this is probably the last year I’ll have him in person. He’ll most likely be deployed next year. I’ll take a real-life hug and kiss any day over Skype.
My older son lives with us right now, until he’s done with his teacher training. He went to church with me and spends lots of time with me. I know those days are numbered as well. Soon he’ll be out on his own, and I won’t have my sidekick with me anymore.
So, what advice would I give you as a mother? Enjoy the time you’re in. If you have babies, hold them tight, and cherish those whines, cries, and slops. If they’re school age, enjoy the tepid coffee, burnt toast, and skinny-armed hugs. There will come a day when the breakfasts will be perfect, and the phone conversations way too short. And your arms will be empty for far too long. And then those memories will get you through the day, and warm your heart, until you hear, “Hi, Mom,” once again.
I hope you had a wonderful Mother’s Day! Got any funny stories to tell? I’d love to hear!
Now my Mother’s Days are much more relaxed. One son is moved out with his own wife. He calls me, and this year will bring my gift down with him on Memorial Day. I can wait, knowing that since he’s in Army Intelligence training, this is probably the last year I’ll have him in person. He’ll most likely be deployed next year. I’ll take a real-life hug and kiss any day over Skype.
My older son lives with us right now, until he’s done with his teacher training. He went to church with me and spends lots of time with me. I know those days are numbered as well. Soon he’ll be out on his own, and I won’t have my sidekick with me anymore.
So, what advice would I give you as a mother? Enjoy the time you’re in. If you have babies, hold them tight, and cherish those whines, cries, and slops. If they’re school age, enjoy the tepid coffee, burnt toast, and skinny-armed hugs. There will come a day when the breakfasts will be perfect, and the phone conversations way too short. And your arms will be empty for far too long. And then those memories will get you through the day, and warm your heart, until you hear, “Hi, Mom,” once again.
I hope you had a wonderful Mother’s Day! Got any funny stories to tell? I’d love to hear!
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