It's Mother's Day. I'm currently alone in bed with coffee and my laptop. The husband has taken the boys out and the house is church quiet. In other words, I'm kinda in heaven right now. Before they left, 5 ran back in the house and called for me from the bottom of the stairs, "Mom? I just want to tell you something. You think that we are going to the farmer's market, but we're actually not. I'm not going to tell you where we're going. But I'm going to get you flowers and a doughnut and probably a card." (#spoileralert) I told him that was a great idea and then nestled back down into by covers and returned to watching Facebook videos.
You see, yesterday I casually mentioned to my husband that it was Mother's Day weekend and although the look on his face was decidedly blank, it told me everything I needed to know. He was clueless. (While he's excellent at many things,, calendars are not among them.) But instead of getting upset, I just walked away. I knew that he knew that I knew he had just given me a Mother's Day super power pack. He had given me the extra boost I needed to check the fuck out for an entire day. Not that I wouldn't have done the same thing had he remembered Mother's Day, but now there would be no side of nagging guilt with my compete lack of effort—because now he has the guilt of forgetting. A guilt exchange had occurred between us. Genius.
Usually, me completely checking out would mean going out by myself for a few hours, maybe get a pedicure, go to yoga, enjoy being alone in my car without snacks and demands. But since corona has given us literally no where to go except maybe Target and I'm really not in the mood to be that person right now, I'm going to sit right here. In bed.. Wearing my day-old sweatpants and "Fresh Outta Fucks" t-shirt., a choice I made when I went to bed last night not knowing how beautifully appropriate it would be today. I'm not going to launder anything. I'm not going to clean anything. I'm not going to wipe anybody. I'm just going to be here, drinking my drinks, scrolling through my social medias, watching my Netflix, not feeling any of my typical guilty mom feelings. And if either 5 or Almost 2 has anything to say to or at me, this is how I"ll respond:
"Mom?" Go ask your dad.
"Where's my —" Where's your father?
"Can I have —" Your dad will give it to you..
"More." Go find daddy.
"Can we —" Yes. Your dad will help you.
"Can I show you —" Your dad would love to see that.
"Backhoe. Daddy." Yep, your daddy is a backhoe.
"Hieeee!" Byeeee!
"I want to —" Find dad.
"Mama." Daddy.
Yes, as it turns out, my husband's absence of mind is literally the best Mother's Day gift he could have given me. But I really hope 5 still delivers on that doughnut. It would go really well with my coffee right now.
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