It’s already ages ago, but I was a bit depressed on Mother’s Day this year.
First of all, Noisette had to work the entire weekend. Not that this is anything new. One of my best Mother’s Days was several years ago, when before departing to some distant location he had given each kid a task, ranging from doing the dishes to bringing me tea in bed. I was so touched that I had tears dripping in my cup of lukewarm tea while reading all four cards piled on my bed. Yes there were four, even one from Zax, which was a small miracle all in itself.
But this year somehow didn’t have me basking in that glow of motherhood. I felt rather sorry for myself. And a bit jealous when encountering a deluge of clever and emotional Mother’s Day posts by fellow bloggers and elsewhere online. Why hadn’t I posted some profound thoughts about Mother’s Day? Perhaps because all my profound thoughts were circulating around “Will somebody make a dinner reservation for tonight” and “Boy I hope I get help with the dishwasher just this ONE DAY.”
I had to do my usual prodding to get a HALF a dishwasher unloaded by one of the kids, which somehow didn’t feel very satisfying at all, and the dinner reservation, when it finally materialized about 30 minutes before dinnertime was to a place NOT of my choosing. To make up for this I was given two beautiful orchids, which from experience I better enjoy while they last here in South Africa, the driest and probably orchid-unfriendly place on the face of this Earth.
You know what I ended up spending the vast majority of my Mother’s Day with? I mean other than wallowing in self-pity, for reasons even I now don’t quite understand?
I gave Billy another make-over. Remember Billy and his late-night surgery? Well. Let’s just say that my beautiful operative work didn’t restore him back to health. Due to faulty materials, I have to tell you, not due to my sewing, even though it was helped along by several glasses of wine. So Sunshine and I picked out new fabric from our trusty friend and neighbor, who has come to the rescue in the sewing department many times before during our time in South Africa (and sells beautiful hand-crafted and unique children’s accessories at WishFull Thinking, go check it out!), and I got out my sewing machine (powered by the transformer retrieved from the xBox) and set to work. I didn’t bother to hide my handiwork from Sunshine. There was no hiding the fact this time that Billy was going to be entirely transformed. It was either that or permanently relegate him to the box where previous body parts already reside.
And you know what?
With each successive cut and each new seam, my mood improved, until my spirits were pretty much restored by the end of day. Even without wine.
Perhaps that is what Mother’s Day is all about. Being a mother and doing the things a mother typically does. From prodding someone to unload the dishwasher to fixing things others might have given up as way beyond hope. Happy belated Mother’s Day, everyone!