What Mothers really want for Mother’s Day – Scary Mommy

What Mothers really want for Mother’s Day

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Well, I suppose I can’t speak for every mother, but this is what I want this year for Mother’s Day:

Not to be woken up. Just let me sleep in as long as I want. Chances are, I’ll be up well before nine, but at least let me try.

Not to change a diaper or wipe an ass. Enough said.

Not to pick out clothes. I don’t care what the children wear– they can be mismatched, filthy and stained, I just don’t want anything to do with it. Extra credit if they wear their Sunday best and pose for pictures.

Not to play referee. I’ve never much enjoyed sports, anyway. And I could really use a day off from breaking up fights and dolling out punishments.

Not to think about dinner. It’s one of the first things I think about everyday and it’s frequently greeted by yucks and ewwws. From all of you. Not tonight, please.

Not to buckle and unbuckle car-seats. Sure, it sounds trivial, but on the weekends when we are in and out of the car a million times, it’s something I despise.

Not to bathe the children. It’s my least favorite task, hands down. And, when you wash them, please actually use soap. Sitting in their own filth doesn’t really count.

Not to be in charge of bedtime. Yes, I want to snuggle with the kids. I will sing them my 80s medley of lullabies and maybe even read a book or two, but I don’t want to deal with the million whines and calls long after I have tucked them in. When I say goodnight and come downstairs, I mean goodnight.

Not to have to return something you bought me that I don’t want. Much as you think it’s fun for me to return fugly necklaces and unwanted broaches, I really don’t enjoy it. Listen to the not so subtle clues I give you about gifts. Or, just don’t buy me anything at all. We’re not dating anymore, it’s fine.

• Not to have to share my day with a husband who just had to be born on May 9th. Fine. I’ll admit that birthdays trump any other day, so I will suck up the waking and wiping and bathing and dressing and cooking this year. It’s only fair. {But, sweetheart, my birthday better rock.}

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