Happy Mother's Day!

Can you remember what you did last Mother’s Day? If so, you’ve a better memory than I. I remember my first Mother’s Day as a mother. Jon followed me around carrying Zephyr. We went wherever I wanted to go; my only responsibility was to nurse as needed. When I think about it now, I realize that the idea was for me to be a mother as little as possible that day. Last year, when I asked Jon what he wanted most for Father’s Day, he echoed the sentiment I hadn’t expressed the month before when he asked me the same thing- a day he could completely devote to his own projects and whims. I feel a little guilty making this realization- that the most incredible gift we can imagine is a day to actually not be a parent!

Not that being a parent feels like a chore. When I was pregnant with Zephyr, I remember wondering if it would be a total drag to be always on duty- I was used to weekends off. But after he was born I learned that being a parent didn’t feel like being a school teacher. After an hour away from my kids, I crave their presence. If Zephyr took too long of a nap, I’d have to sneak in to look at him. By the end of date night, we’re always in a hurry to pick him up. And sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and reminisce about Jubilee’s daytime activities. A few weeks ago, Isadora smiled down at Jubilee and said, “She seems like so much fun, but she's a lot of work, too, isn’t she?” I thought a minute before answering. “She doesn’t feel like work, but there’s a lot of work that doesn’t get done because of her.”

Anyway, I thought I would write about today- Mother’s Day, so next year I can look back and remember my fourth Mother’s Day, since I have lost all memory of number 2 and number 3.

Jubilee was the first to give me a homemade card- I heard paper rattling in her hand first thing this morning. Cards from Zephyr and Jon followed. (Yesterday when I came home from kickboxing Zephyr said “We made you cards!” Jon said, “We’ll surprise her with those tomorrow, buddy.”) Jon made a super yummy breakfast of potatoes, eggs, and toast. We talked with all our mothers, apologizing for not getting anything into the mail. Jubilee and I danced to the tunes produced by Jon and Zephyr’s (mostly percussion) instrument rotation. Jon pointed out a hummingbird nest in our Mulberry tree. Packed a lunch to take to the park, met up with some friends there. We estimated how many pea plants we’d need to supply our annual pea consumption. Went out for ice cream, came home and took a scrumptious nap. I cruised the internet for the best price on glamourmom tank tops, which will be my own belated Mother’s Day gift, probably next month. Two teen-aged boys we know skateboarded over and asked to borrow some sugar to make cinnamon rolls for their mother. Zephyr sat on my lap as we looked at pictures of when he was Jubilee’s age. We heated up leftover homemade pizza and spread a blanket on the floor for an indoor picnic dinner.

Around 7 pm, I started feeling grouchy about things. Jon ate a piece of pizza I wanted. Zephyr spilled his smoothie. Our internet connection wasn’t working. I felt uncomfortably hot each time I nursed. Old Navy closed before I had the chance to shop there with my Christmas gift card. There was laundry to fold and put away. My neck was sore from Saturday’s kickboxing class. Zephyr insisted on making strange faces in all the pictures Jon took of me and the kids to memorialize the holiday (see above).

A magazine article I read recently called small annoyances like these “Petty First World Concerns.” I agree with her whole heartedly. I have so much more than what I need. I recently told my mother that I’m living my best possible life. As I write, Jon holds Jubilee while he and Zephyr act out their Polo book script repeatedly. Tree leaves are gently swaying outside the window as dusk falls. Jubilee learned to click her tongue tonight, and we all gazed, smiled, and clicked right along with her.