I have to say, I really dislike holidays like Mother's Day, Valentine's Day, etc. They seriously serve no purpose except to get people to spend money, and usually out of guilt. Labor Day, Memorial Day - those are good. People get the day off, usually, to be with friends and family. These other holidays of "appreciation" just seem... lame. I mean, c'mon. Buy me a gift any day of the year, tell me you love me just because. Don't do it because it's written on a calendar.
Anyway, rant off.
My children are getting older, and regardless of my denial, that means I am too. Every year is interesting though. Cooper, kindergarten and age 5, is still in that "usual school created" Mother's Day theme. He came home Friday with a flower he'd grown from a seed, and a flower-shaped blue cardstock with his photo attached to it. And of course, I had to unwrap it RIGHT THEN. Sydney's 1st grade class made a thing to hang on the refrigerator.
Carly, the mini-me and ever the practical one, got me two pens I really like to use. Love this gift. And they're always stealing MY pens, so I needed them as well. Not that I believe for an instant that these pens will remain on my desk for long, but I digress...
She also made me this really neat braided ankle bracelet that is really well done, and I plan to wear it starting the day school is out, and keep it on until the hemp just wears out. Perfect for summer. The best gift from Car, though, was she cleaned the kitchen for me. THAT'S what I'm talkin' about!
Shandie. Oh, my freaky sixteen year old. Two years ago, for you long-time readers of the blog, you'll remember she drew me a picture and it read, "If mothers were flowers, I'd smash you in a book." This year, being older and so much more mature, she bought me several little things: A book from the NEXT line of Harlequin called LIKE MOTHER, LIKE DAUGHTER (But in a Good Way) with three stories in it by Jennifer Greene, Nancy Robards Thompson and Peggy Webb. She also got me two of my favorite candies: A Skor bar and a box of Wonka Bottle Caps. Syd stole the Skor bar, and all of them have raided the Bottle Caps. She got us matching silver rings, hers says DAUGHTER and mine says MOTHER, but neither of us can wear silver well, so we've put them on our keychains. And she got me a silver heart that says PATRICIA.
Whyyyyyyyyyyyyy does it say PATRICIA? I'm so glad you asked. After almost 17 years of "Mom Mom Moooooooooooooooom MOM MOMOMOMOMOM", I've learned to block it from my hearing. So several months ago, Shandie started calling me Patricia. Ugh. Even at her school, she'll say something like, "Thanks, Patricia!" and I'll yell "Don't call me PATRICIA!" and her friends are like, "I thought your mom's name is Brenda." And she nods and says, "It is."
Seriously, explain that mentality to others. Not an easy task.
So, I now have a PATRICIA silver heart that goes on a necklace. Not quite sure what to do with THAT yet. But she cooked dinner for us too, so that delayed her beating on general principle.
And the homemade cards. Let's not forget those. Remember Shandie's "smash you in a book"? Well, remember the deballing of Santa from the blonde child named Sydney? Hmm. Remember my post about YOE DAY? (Some of you may have some back-reading to do to get caught up here.) I'll summarize though: Yoe Day is an official school holiday here. I actually heard the reading of the will this year, and Ms. Yoe, before donating all the money to the ISD, declared a day off where the presidents of the different school organizations will go to the graves of Mr. and Mrs. Yoe and put flowers on them. I kid you not: Official No School Day here for that. Very odd. Well, apparently this had an impact on Sydney, ever the literal thinker. Her cards to me reads:
"Happy Mother's Day. I love you. You are kind. So when you die, I'll have everyone put flowers on your grave. From: Sydney"
And ya know, I just had no reply to that, other than, I love you too, Syd Vicious, you little freaky darling.
Happy Mother's Day to to you too - and may you have someone in your life who loves you enough to smash you in a book, or have everyone put flowers on your grave when you die.