I’m convinced that my Mother’s Day was good for exactly one reason.
(Actually, two. Because there *was* cake…)
The reason is that I didn’t make anyone take photos*.
I have this thing that I do. I announce to no one in particular but to everyone at the same time: All I want for Mother’s Day is to take photos of my three kids! The announcement gives everyone ample time to get their whines and displeasure out of their systems, and it makes me a bit of a hero. Who needs brunches and gifts and sleep-ins! Not me! All I need are pictures of my perfect progeny! Also, I’m a photographer, so.
But then Mother’s Day arrives and we try to take photos but someone** always ends up in tears. Someone’s breathing too closely. Someone smells too much like hand sanitizer. Someone doesn’t smell enough like hand sanitizer. Someone touched someone else. Someone refuses to touch someone else. Someone isn’t smiling. Someone is too hot. Someone is too cold. Someone saw a bug. Someone who didn’t see a bug is now afraid that the bug is on her. Someone needs to pee.
The last time we tried to take photos I only ended up photographing two of my children because I looked at one of them the wrong way when I was surprised that she chose to wear a shirt that was different from the shirt she was going to wear.
You’ve been here, yes? (Please tell me you’ve been here and if you haven’t please lie)
But this Mother’s Day I said NO to forcing photography. And we just…had ourselves a plum lovely day. (And cake.)
It’s actually my anniversary today. And my birthday on Monday. And truth be told, I would still love them to let me take their photos.
But I won’t hold my breath.
And I’ll ask for what I actually REALLY want.
Someone to make all of my appointments for me.
This is not even a joke. I need to go to the dentist. I need to make an Invisalign appointment (oh yes this is happening). I need to get a new prescription, because I know mine has changed, before I order new contacts and these sweet new glasses. I need a haircut desperately. I need a pedicure before the world can see my hibernating feet — and to remove the polish from my last pedicure in November because I am disgusting.
I will happily go to all of these appointments — I am the one person on earth who actually even enjoys going to the dentist because I get to rest my mind for thirty minutes and really only thing I worry about is where the heck my tongue is supposed to go. And I can play the “Which is better — 1 or 2?” game with the eye doctor all day long.
I just don’t want to make them.
And that is all I want for my birthday.
(and another external hard drive.)
* There was also the one year that Mother’s Day was ruined because everyone forgot and then ran out to buy me last-minute gifts by visiting the closest plaza— a frozen yogurt in a flavor I don’t like…and a bottle of Scotch, but we try to block that year out.
** Usually me.