Did you get your ideal giftage?
Did you spend the day the way you really truly wanted to?
And I don’t mean cleaning up after your breakfast in bed, slaving over an impressive feast for extended family, or oohing and aahing over fairy bread as your ass goes numb sitting on a picnic rug.
Mine was all that I wanted it to be. And here’s why…
I planned and prepared in advance.
First up, I bought my own giftage after sternly protesting for weeks in advance that I did not want anything. I made sincere threats about what I would do to my family if they wasted an obscene amount of money on a piece of pretty 300gsm card with a heartfelt message that has absolutely nothing to do with my parenting skills to date.
Instead, I went out on Friday and bought my own present for pocket change. Seriously.
Grrr. Because slippers are cool if they are covered in leopard print. Never, ever, if they are nana-ish (floral / pastel).
Then on my way to work on Saturday I decided that I’ve been all kinds of awesome on the parenting front of late, and therefore I deserved another gift. Also, I had located a mini hair straightener and I wanted it.
While purchasing the mini hair straightener I realised that I now had 2 gifts but 3 children. So in order to ensure that no child felt left out, I also purchased a few tops. But only because I’m a good mother and I didn’t want one of The Feral Threesome to feel left out come gift giving time.
Come Mother’s Day and I was up by 6:45am slicing and dicing meat and veg to shove in the slow cooker for dinner.
I shoved a cheese and tomato croissant at #1Nana (Mother's Day breakfast) along with her giftage:
Pedicure gift voucher and a book from yours truly. Along with strict instructions for the most evil, dedicated, hard core beauty therapist in the place to go to town on that pedicure. God Speed.
From her beloved grandkids, who I took to the $2 shop and told to go nuts:
- A packet of pegs from Miss3 - A 2 pack of dummies from Mstr3 - A pack of pink Tic Tac’s that happen to be her own favorite (because Nana always shares), and a pocket pack of tissues, and a free sample of moisturiser; all from Miss6
Tissues, pegs and dummies – can you tell it’s a MOTHER’S Day gift?
Then, to console her over her fairly shit haul, I cheered #1Nana up by offering to take her to the casino before we went out to lunch.
You see, the #1Grandparents are insistent on blowing my inheritance in a painfully slow manner, 1c at a time. Selfish bastards.
On this occasion, it meant I could get out of the house by 9am and not come back until after lunch. A win win situation before we even hit the casino.
So as I left the house I worked out that I'd spent all of 70-80 minutes mothering my offspring on Mother’s Day.
Best. Present. Ever.
I swanned around the casino while #1Nana kept decimating my dwindling inheritance. I killed time with an inner debate over how early it was acceptable to partake in a bubbly beverage at a casino. I put a few dollars in a machine and it gave me nothing in return. I watched some TV. I did some killer people watching.
What I did not do was parent, officiate, adjudicate, reign, rule with an iron fist – any of those things that mother’s normally have to do.
Then we went to lunch. Sans kids. No kiddy menu, no rearranging the table settings so that all sharp, pointy, breakable, decantable items were as far away from the kids possible. I could even have a glass of wine and carelessly place it right near the edge of the table. No fear of it being knocked over or covertly sampled.
I returned home in time for the Twin Tornado’s afternoon nap.
Gold.
Miss6 had her head shoved inside the laptop. I’m not sure she’d even noticed I was gone.
No idea what #1Hubby was doing, as I was doing everything in my power to avoid eye contact, lest his beaten down demeanour and sweaty pallor after a day of solo kid-wrangling kill my blissed out buzz.
As soon as the Twin Tornado started to stir, I went next door to #1Brother’s. Only returning to dish up the dinner I’d popped in the slow cooker that morning while making the croissants.
#1Hubby handled bath time and bed time, while I sipped cheap bubbly and admired my feet in my new slippers at the other end of the bed.
All up, I think I spent around 2 hours, 2.5 at a push, with my kids on Mother’s Day.
It was awesome. The best couple of hours of my day. And they didn’t irritate me or whine at me even once. It was like removing all the stress-testing and noisy parts of the day, and only participating in / being present for the good stuff.
Best Mother’s Day ever.
Of course, come Father’s Day, there will be stern words about bonding and guilt and shame if #1Hubby even dares to suggest the same scenario for his special day.
Next year I'm hitting Pizza Hut for lunch - for free!
