After the Cupcake: A Mother's Day Morning

Mother's Day. 

It is a day meant for old mothers.  Not young ones.  At least that is what I have always said.

For a present, I say "I want quiet in the household".

They hear, "fight and be crazy".

I say, "All I want to do is stay home and relax"

And yet I usually get roped into going somewhere and sitting around making small talk.

I tell them I want a good picture of them all smiling in some cute pinterest-y way.

The boys hear, "I am trying to ruin your life by making you wear something nice" and the girls hear "This will be the perfect time to have a meltdown because my brother offered to help me out of the Suburban."

So this year I was glad that I had to work.

I could stay home, sleep, do my own thing.

The kids could do their own thing.  Be crazy, play in the yard. Noah could do his own thing.  Whip up fabulous food.  Try to make things perfect and quiet for me.  Together they could all go visit relatives without me.

I will be reading a book, sleeping. going on a walk.

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It was a busy night at work..  In the morning however, my friend walked toward me with a chocolate cupcake.  "For you", she said.  What a lovely surprise, and what a lovely pile of frosting it had perched on it's top.   I carefully set it next to me as I finished my charting.  I was too late, I decided, to make it home before everyone left for church so I decided to do a last act of kindness. 

Someone really wanted a Sunday paper, and the only way to get one is to buy one out of a machine.  I didn't know if I had the money, but I dug and dug in my giant purse and finally came up with enough.  I walked all of the way to the machine, and it only accepted quarters.  Not willing to give up that easily I went in search for change for my dollar bill.  That accomplished, I headed back to the machine.  I put my money in cheerfully, looking forward to passing along the paper.  The last quarter dropped.  The door wouldn't open. 

It just would not open.  Nor would it return my money. 

I analyzed the box.  No way to get in, and besides someone in a vehicle outside the door was looking at me quite skeptically as I shook the machine.  I dropped in another quarter, just to see if that would knock something loose.  It didn't.

I had no more money and no newspaper.

Disheartened, I headed for my car.

I sat in the parking ramp and ate my whole cupcake.  It left purple frosting on my nose.

I drove home to find kids who were half excited that I was home and half sad that I had missed the amazing "breakfast in bed" complete with dandilions wrapped in furry leaves that they had prepared for me.  The hot chocolate was cold, and the toast was a little stiff, but it was still wonderful.

The card was sweet, and their faces proud.

Deacon wore his secret smile.

My favorite part though was the way that the card was divided into sections and they each had a box.  Deacon had written Berean's words for her.   "I love  you". Siblings.  A collaborative effort to honor their mom.  Older helping the youngers.  Sharing an experience.

I sat at the computer to check facebook.  2 globs of jelly fell from my toast to the keyboard.

The kitchen is a mess, Noah seemed harried.

I doubt that I will get the things on my list this year:
A garage that is clean enough to park in
A garden that is ready to plant
5 kids and a husband who are willing to help me clean the whole house from top to bottom

But what I have is pretty great too: coworkers that bring me surprises, a job to help support our family, money to help those in need (even if it doesn't always work!), 5 beautiful children who love me and each other, an extended family and friends to love and support us, my own mom and mother-in-law who are  amazing women of God, and a husband who cooks for me, supports my every venture  and tries very hard to match his brand of crazy with mine.