Mother's Day

Every Mother's Day my brother calls me and wishes me a happy day. He calls my sister-in-law, too. And of course, his wife - but I expect that is a holler down the stairs or more likely a whisper in the ear.

This year, I woke up on my own, with my hubby and youngest son downstairs already. They didn't hear me. They didn't hear my desire for breakfast in bed. They didn't hear my wishes for jumps on my mattress and hugs and cuddles and presents made in school. Kisses on the cheek. Squeezes too tight.

They didn't hear my brother call.

So I got out of bed on my own. And begged for breakfast for an hour (true!) since my son didn't want to make it and didn't see why he should. To his defence he did make me a giant yellow construction-paper daisy with sparkles and hearts all over it and magnets on the back and it now fronts the fridge. "I love you Mom can I have a DS?" is what is written on the front. DS stands for Dual Screen, as in Nintendo Dual Screen video game.

My other son, the older one, wrote me an email that says "For Mother's Day I am going to Disneyland and I am not going to spent my souvenier money to buy you a fridge magnet as I will be spending it all on yummy shish kebobs in Adventureland." Or something along that line. To his defence, he is in Disneyland, and we did create good memories eating kebobs when we savoured the Bengal Barbecue together a few years ago. I'm sure he would have shared them with me if I was there. I think...

For some people, Mother's Day is easy. An easy call, over easy, easy does it. For other's it is a bit of a struggle.

I fall into that latter category.

But something about this year. This year was easy. I did end up getting breakfast made for me. I did get the presents made in school. And the kiss on the cheek, eventually. I also got an email and ice cream and peace and quiet, too.

And I got a phone call. A simple call with a simple message.

I take them all to heart.


p.s. This is one of those 10 blogs I was telling you about. Whew - nine left to go! :)
p.p.s. Dear Mom, I was lousy this year! I'm sorry and I owe you one.