My Mother’s Day was like a very low key Mother’s Weekend. Eirinn and AH took me for dinner on Saturday. We went to Wimpy’s Diner because with Eirinn we are limited to restaurants that a) won’t kick us out for the unusually high decibel coming from our table (more specifically, from Eirinn’s mouth), b) won’t kick us out for standing on the seats (again, her, not the grown ups)(usually), and c) sell chicken nuggets or fingers (even if she only eats daddy’s toast anyway).
I didn’t need cut flowers and I don’t do indoor plants (no matter how bug-free and clean the plant is, I have this weird feeling that they are infested with aphids or ants or something that’s going to take over my house and even though I’m not afraid of bugs that thought makes me itchy with the heebee jeebees) and we don’t have any gardens yet and we still have a plethora of chocolate from Easter. So I bought my own Happy Mother’s Day shoes while Eirinn was at home napping.
Sunday is my regular sleep-in day, so when I woke up, I was greeted with cards, a magazine and big hugs. No breakfast in bed. I only eat cereal and balancing a bowl of liquids on a spherical stomach containing a human whose sole purpose in life at the moment is to see if she can kick her way out didn’t really sound like something I was capable of doing first thing in the morning. Plus, if they woke me up even 10 minutes before I was ready to wake up that would not have been good for any of the parties involved.
All weekend, including today, Eirinn has been greeting me grandly with “Happy Mudder Day!”, arms upraised, big smile on. Then she gives me great hugs and big, sloppy kisses. It is literally the cutest and sweetest thing ever. And she’s been behaving herself like a little angel, with the guise that she should listen to mommy because it’s Mother’s Day. Hey, if she thinks it’s fun to have Mother’s Day all weekend long, I do too.
We have also been giving her lessons in familial ties. It started with some confusion over why we had to buy a present for Granny when it was Mudder Day. We explained to her that Granny is Daddy’s mommy. And Babba is Mommy’s mommy. And so on and so forth. This also meant that Granny is not Daddy’s granny and Babba is not Mommy’s babba. This is all very confusing to a two year old, but we worked on it and worked on it, at her request, and I think she kind of got it.
What did everyone else do for Mudder Day? All day pampering and spoiling? Nice quiet day at home with the family? Running around visiting the first generation of mothers? Whatever you did, I hope it was wonderful. Or at least didn’t suck.