Chasing Ri and Bo

My Ideal Mother’s Day

What do moms really want for Mother’s day? It is an interesting question and I’ve seen a lot of posts about it this week on social media. Unlike some mothers who just want to be left the hell alone for one day (I do have days like this, but they are usually unexpected and most likely the result of dealing with my tantruming toddler), I think I want a balance of both some alone time and being smothered with adorable baby kisses, hugs, and love, by the two greatest gifts I’ve ever been given.

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Motherhood is no doubt the hardest and most rewarding experience I have ever had. Every day is different, with new challenges, complications, joys, achievements, and of course piles and piles of poop. It is both mentally and physically exhausting, not to mention messy. So, of course, there are a few things that I would like to do to pamper myself on this designated day. For example:

  1. I want to paint all 10 of my toenails without interruption. Not 4, not 6, not 8 with two smudged off, but 10. All 10. And, I want to do it without Riley painting the tub pink, knocking over the polish remover on the floor, and then trying to write her name on Bode’s shirt with a nice shade of red. Dear girl, I appreciate you working on your letters, I do, but this is not the time or the place.
  2. I want to sleep. I don’t care if it is in the morning, afternoon, or night, but I want to close my eyes and know that I am not responsible for the survival of little beings for at least three consecutive hours. Years of sleep deprivation have started to wear me down. Sleep, uninterrupted sleep, would be AMAZING.
  3. I want to go to the bathroom alone. I want to sit quietly doing my business, without Riley looking behind my naked bum to see if my pee has magically turned pink. I want to get my own toilet paper and not have to use the shreds of paper that Riley has managed to get off the roll, while screaming, “I do it, I do it, I do it.” I want to flush on my own, without the fear that Riley will break the toilet in her impressive attempt to flush 26 times in five seconds. I want to wash my hands in peace, without trying to wrangle the toilet brush out of Riley’s death-gripped hands, as she uses it to “dust” the entire bathroom with miniscule particles of feces. It’s a small request, but an important one.
  4. I want to have brunch. Lots and lots of brunch. Actually, I don’t want to cook at all on Mother’s Day. I want to eat, and drink, and drink some more, and enjoy food with my family. I do not want to spend a meal trying to force my toddler to eat and 10 minutes later have her ask for a snack. I don’t want to clean up throw-up from my almost one-year old, who unfortunately has a sensitive gag reflex. And, I do not want to try and enjoy a meal that has now become luke-warm, as Riley crawls around under the table saying, “I pooping.” Nothing kills an appetite as fast as poop. Nope. Nothing.

But, in addition to these things, all I really want to do is to spend the day with my little poop machines cherubs. My babies. My world.

I want to sit in the rocking chair, while Bode has his bottle, stroking his hair and breathing in his delicious baby smell.

I want to blow bubbles with Riley and push her on the swings, because those are her favorite things, and making her happy, makes me happy.

I want to hear my children laugh, as they play with each other in the playpen. A place that is really only meant for Bode, but has become their favorite spot to spend time together.

And, to top it all off, I want to put the kids to bed, and spend some quality time with Pat. Because at the end of the day, and every day, he is my person. Without him, without us, this life would not be as sweet.

I don’t need presents, flowers, or chocolate, though a nice big bottle of pinot grigio would not be turned away. This is all I need.


Cheers to all mommas out there – it is a tough job- one that I try to handle with as much grace as I can muster, but if you know me at all, you know that I am anything but graceful. So, here is to falling on my face during this thing called motherhood, but always getting back up to try again.



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