Mother’s Day is a week away.
I know this because Target has a massive display of cards that says so. I probably would have forgotten otherwise. Also, Target has several end-caps full of whimsical gift ideas that are sure to delight every mom in your life. Like coffee mugs and sticky notes that say things like “Beautiful” “Lovely” and “Breathe.”
They’re nice. But they’re not on my list of things I want for Mother’s Day.
Do you have a list?
Mine is long. And it’s kind of unlikely that I’ll get anything on it. But just in case you’re looking for ideas— *cough* *cough*—well, here you go.
• The knowledge that I’m getting this Mom stuff right—the certainty of it.
• Freedom from the endless cycle of pants through my closet that fit and then don’t and then do and then don’t and then do and then don’t . . . .
• More sleep.
• Less fear over what could happen to my tiny Loves in the course of a day, week, month, lifetime . . . minute.
• A minute to pee. In privacy.
• The ability to articulate my thoughts without excessive quantities of emotion. Especially when talking about babies. The future. And food.
• More time to write, garden, sleep, read, tuck my babies in, eat, sleep, shower, watch my babies sleep, sleep, and clean the fridge.
• A clean fridge.
• Laundry that stays done.
• Landry that stays folded.
• Laundry that folds itself.
• No laundry.
• Strawberries that aren’t on “the dirty dozen” list.
• More kisses and hugs from my Littles.
• Fewer concerned looks when I forget to wear makeup.
• The ability to run without my backside slapping my legs.
• The promise that my Mom will live forever—because that’s how long I’m going to need her. Also my Dad.
• The ability to love perfectly. Courageously. Selflessly.
• The ability to walk down stairs silently. Also open doors silently.
• The eradication of the stomach flu from the face of the earth for all eternity future.
• All the coffee.
• Forest animals who clean my kitchen.
• A place for all the stuff.
• Elimination of the word “should.”
• Longer summers.
• Deeper stronger faith.
• Cashew carmel cluster ice-cream in my freezer right . . . now.
• More kissing practice. (You can always get better at that).
• No more bullying—of anyone. Anywhere. Ever.
• Groceries that put themselves away. In my clean fridge.
• The right words to explain how thankful I am, how blessed I feel, how emotional I get, how inadequate I feel to fill this honored, wonderful, holy, fearful, beautiful, messy, broken, ordinary position of being mama to my people. Every. Blessed. Day.
Happy Mother’s Day my fellow moms—you who love on children across the world whether they are yours by birth, by adoption, by association, by relation, or by the outpouring of love you so graciously extend. Thank you for doing your part, however great or small, to give the world these little people. There is no such thing as other people’s children—we are all moms.