This weekend is Mother’s Day and, as usual, I am looking forward to an egg sandwich in bed, maybe an afternoon nap, and not cooking for anyone. I told Drew he doesn’t have to plan a thing — as long as I get my egg sandwich, a nap, and a day free of cooking and cleaning up, I’ll be a happy camper. This year Jackson’s old enough to have some awareness of what Mother’s Day means. At least, I thought he was.
“It’s a day to say ‘thank you’ to Moms,” he said, “for the stuff they do.”
“Like what?” I asked.
“What kind of stuff do moms do?” I asked again.
“Oh. … I don’t know!” he said, shrugging.
I guess I should be glad he didn’t reply, “Drink wine and yell a lot.”
The other day Jackson decided that all of our house plants are also moms, so he named them (after his friends, naturally) and made them all Mother’s Day cards that he placed on the soil in their pots.
“They’re very special to me,” he said dramatically as I watched him do this.
I’m not jealous though. Despite my fierce new competition (we have six plants), I’m still in Jackson’s top three of favorite moms.
“I like you, Sidney’s mom, and Riley’s mom all the best!” he says. Listen, those other two moms are pretty awesome, so I’m in good company.
Happy Mother’s Day to all of my son’s favorite moms, to all of my favorite moms, including my own wonderful, fabulous, loving Mom, to my mom friends who make this crazy adventure we’re on a hell of a lot less lonely and scary, and to all of you who are moms, too. Having kids is such a leap of faith — you have no idea what motherhood is really like until you’re in it, and to have other women in it with you who lift you up and have your back and let you vent without rolling their eyes and judging you (and you know who you are who do that) is a goddamn gift, and I will be forever grateful for the friendship and support of other moms, just as I’m forever grateful for the reason I get to be on this adventure in the first place. Jackson and Joanie, you two are my heart.