Some Other Mother's Day

Yesterday found me daydreaming about my ideal Mother's Day.  I fantasized about a clean house, no bickering, sleeping in, a BBC marathon, and endless foot rubs.

Last night found me in bed at 8:30, worn out, wrangling a not-so-sleepy 3 year old to bed. Reminding my people to brush their teeth and have their church clothes picked out, and inspecting a certain 9 year-old boy's feet for mud, had me exhausted. I think I forgot to brush my teeth before falling asleep. I woke at 10:30 pm to take the toddler to the toilet.  I woke again at 3:30 a.m. because the toddler had peed through his pull-up, creating a lake that surrounded only me.  Lee's side of the bed remained dry, so I decided to let him sleep. Liam and I went down to the couch, where I collected a couple more hours of sleep with the kid on top of me. Can you say comfy?

I woke again at 5:45 a.m. to let out that puppy. You know, the one I have come to love.

I woke again at 6:30 to let our other dog out.  I woke again, for good, at 7 a.m. to put my parent's dog out.

I made coffee, I made breakfast. I enjoyed homemade cards and flowers. My hubby picked me out some super cute jammies, that I will be in by 7 p.m. tonight. My parents gave me new towels, and my brother took credit for every gift I was given, presenting each one as if for the first time.  I received hugs and kisses from all my people, and felt gloriously loved.  I imagine that my life, even urine soaked, is someone else's fantasy.

I realized that some other Mother's Day will find me well rested, not soaked in someone else's urine.

Some other Mother's Day will find my house tidy and mud-less.  Maybe my bathroom sinks won't look like science experiments.

Some other Mother's Day will find me able to shower alone, with a clean towel awaiting, shampoo left where it was, and not having to use my husband's razor because my daughter's take mine.

Some other Mother's Day will find me wearing matching earrings because I wasn't the last one to get dressed.  Heck, maybe I'll even deodorize BOTH armpits.

Some other Mother's Day will find me not playing referee between teenage daughters and one skirt.

Some other Mother's Day will find me sitting on a couch that doesn't have match box cars and cheerios stuffed under the cushions.

Some other Mother's Day will find me getting underwear from out of my drawer, rather than digging through the pile on the laundry room table.

Yes, this is my laundry table.

Some other Mother's Day may find me remembering the best days of my life, the ones filled with bickering, sleepless nights, dirty children, endless laundry and constant cooking, because these days are also filled with chubby hands, no-longer chubby hands, sweet hugs, heartfelt laughter, and the truest love I've ever known.


 I imagine that my life, even urine soaked, may be another person's fantasy.

What are you grateful for this Mother's Day?