May 13, 2012

How does Motherlode celebrate Mother's Day?

Of course you're dying to know. Okay, maybe not.

I can't really wrap my head around Mother's Day. Never have. It's about my Mom, not me, and even though she's been gone 12 years, the torch has not been passed. I let the boys off easy; Hallmark can guilt the rest of the world, but not in here.

Ari told me that his friend, Ben, had to give his Mom two hours of gardening help in lieu of a gift. He thought this was hilarious until I reminded him he had to cut the grass. I had to make a video for a school presentation taking place at a school board up north, so I told him he had to help me. It's about helping kids deal with mental illness, and I'm their pep talk. I know, I know. Hush. When we were done, Ari had to save it to send to the video. He named it 'Sad People Video' and didn't understand why I fell off my chair laughing.

My 'director' was bored and easily distracted, and at one point, while making a perfect take of an imperfect reading, a cat tumbled off of something and scribbled around on the hardwood. Take Two.

I finally asked what they wanted for dinner. Ari said "well, it's Mother's Day, so anything you want". As in, 'anything I want to make'. A neighbour came over to pay Christer for some grunt work he'd done the other day (if you have large, immobile objects that need moving, you call Christer; he is big and strong and works like a bull), and handed him a wad of cash. Christer handed it to me and said "go get dinner. Happy Mother's Day".

I didn't want restaurant. It's the third worst day of the year to go to a restaurant. The first is New Year's, the second is Valentine's. I've only heard this, of course. It's been eons since I was out for either. Instead, Ari grabbed my mouse and pulled up a recipe. "Remember we want to try this?" he asked. I sorta remember him asking for this. Spaghetti Carbonara. I remembered recently thinking we should try this, but I don't like bacon, so dismissed it. I don't like recipes. I don't like rules.

I just made Spaghetti Carbonara. I used the recipe. I followed the rules. It worked. I still don't like bacon.

Happy Mother's Day.


Blogger Chris Brown (not the felon) said...

On Mother's Day my wife isn't allowed to lift a finger in preparation for having our Mothers over for dinner. If she does, I hit her with the cast iron frying pan. Well... my Mom has one, so I threaten to drive over to her house and grab it.

The girls and I cook, clean, and entertain. The womenfolk fall asleep and die from starvation.

Why would you not want to celebrate THAT?

Happy Mother's day, you old curmudgeon. Well... not "old" old. But you get my drift.

May 13, 2012 9:18 PM  
Anonymous Lorraine said...

I wish it weren't so. I can't help it, and it's not my boys' fault. I struggle. Always have.

I think it's just one of those days that is bigger than I am.

May 13, 2012 9:42 PM  
Anonymous buzzwhack said...

I'm happy to say my family had a nice Mother's Day get together. After a long, nervous year dealing with doctors more concerned about their sports car tune up and whether their agent successfully bought that cottage in Rideau Lake for them, instead of Mother's heart, I'm happy to learn she is basically OK. Will need medicine and a work out plan. Time is precious, don't let it slip away.Oh and doctors? Believe me, I'm so not concerned about the govt cutting your fees. Seems you're doing a little too well as it stands.

May 13, 2012 11:53 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I was th only Mom at church with all of my children beside me. My daughter is no problem, any reason to wear a dress and her 'good shoes' and she is in. The boys are 15 & 17 and not so easily swayed but they know that every other weekend at my house is not a big price to pay and they dutifully get up, put on a shirt that is clean and unwrinkled and come to church with me. It makes me happy and my parents even happier. I can't tell you how many people at church, especially the older ones, stop and comment on my good looking family and ask me how I get those boys to come to church week after week.
I tell them, they are good kids, they know is important to me and their grandparents and that life is short so its a small price to pay. We aren't religious, but its a community that I grew up in, and small country church where we all know and care about each other. It also doesn't hurt that it starts at 11:15 so we don't have to rush to get up and out!
I told them, that is the best present they can give me....but I still loved the card and the flowers that came my way late last night after the grammas had been with us for the evening and had gone back home again.
I still look at them and wonder where my little kids went.
From the sounds of your house and your boys, they are telling you they love you every day, they don't need a special one to prove it. Drink it in while you have the chance.

May 14, 2012 9:27 AM  

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