Reality After Mother's Day

Any other 'Teau Mamas out there feeling the lack of love after Sunday's appreciation-fest? I, for one, could get used to having my kids pick up their soccer paraphernalia from the front hall, feed the dogs, run the vacuum over the dirty floors and feed me breakfast in bed. Even if they did hover at my breakfast tray eating bacon from my plate along with our drooling dogs, it was a nice day of pampering over here at my home. How about you? Did you get a break or at least recognition? I don't want to brag but I even took an afternoon nap and invited anyone I wanted for Costco pizza at dinner time.

All day long, I threw my motherly weight around, barking orders with the words "Come on, it's Mother's Day" as my punctuation. When my son said he was going to join a soccer game at the last minute, I vetoed that plan in quick time and made him stay home to watch me drink wine and eat pizza with our family friends. My cozy bed called me early and I was able to answer that call at the time I wanted, which was 8 p.m. I read my Jodi Piccoult novel for hours and, after calling out goodnight to the children and Roland, I fell asleep with a smile on my face.

The only problem I see with Mother's Day is that everything came to a crashing halt the next day, and, mistakenly pulling out the MD excuse to get everyone to snap to attention, I realized I have another 364 days before those words will carry the weight they did on Sunday. Especially because my birthday fell on Mother's Day this year and unlike many of you, my words had double the impact on the 8th when I said "I need more coffee" and "my feet need rubbing."

All year, we Mothers (this word must always be capitalized!) wait on our children, fix meals, pick up toys, drive forgotten lunches to school, remember to buy that pillow pet at Bartells, keep the house relatively clean, organize 'vacations' to Great Wolf Lodge, tuck kids into bed and do thousands of other Motherly niceties in the course of a few days to make life wonderful. We put them first in everything, except maybe coffee at Starbucks, and sacrifice our creature comforts so they can be happy, safe, healthy.

If you're feeling unappreciated this week, you have my permission to make this your pedicure week, take an hour to read in the afternoon instead of picking up toys, have a glass of wine with dinner, switch the TV to Idol from Disney and wistfully tell your family that you love how everyone pitched in on Sunday. Maybe there will be some money involved if next Sunday goes similarly. I know it's not Motherly to bribe kids but it's actually permissible if you call it allowance. Regardless, if you are back in the grind this week and need a little pick me up I highly recommend you do something nice for yourself and if anyone asks, say "Kimberley prescribed this," and maybe they'll think I'm your new doctor.

Pace yourselves ladies and remember always that we rock! Embrace the institution of Motherhood and all that we stand for, so Happy Belated Mother's Day to all you Goddesses out there who make life on the Sammamish Plateau the American dream that it is.

As always, thanks for listening to my presumptuous spewing.

Kim