BOY TRAPPED

Where the inside of my mind leaks onto the screen.

Monday, May 14, 2012

My First REAL Mothers Day

I'd planned to wait a few days, letting a bit of life cleanse our collective palates after the traditional outpouring of generic Facebook wishes that we each have a Happy Mothers Day.  But mine was so great, I just couldn't let it sit for a few days.

As with so many of my stories, this one has so many beginnings.  I tried to convince myself to start at the Sunday-morning moment when Adam whispered to Kirk, "Dad, you need to get up and help me make breakfast for Mom," for once sparing the details I seem to always indulge.  But I at least have to back up to Saturday night's bedtime.

Adam: "Mom, can you please stay in bed tomorrow morning?  I need to do a surprise for you."

Me: "Sure, that sounds nice."

Adam: "Oh, but Mom... could you maybe set my alarm so I don't wake up too late?"

Me: "Okay.  I need to be out of bed by 9:00 or 9:30 at the latest.  What time should I set your alarm for?"

Adam: "8:30.  But can you set it to radio so it doesn't freak me out?"

I tried to set it to radio, but as an old discarded alarm, it's pretty finicky and I had no success.

Me: "I'm just going to have to set it to the beeping, but I'll try to turn the volume down.

Adam: "Ok.  Oh, Mom... can you just try it right now so I can see if it's going to freak me out?"

So I set the alarm for 9:08 and we waited for it to buzz.  It turned out that I couldn't control the volume.

Adam: "Could you try plugging it in across the room?  Then it won't seem so loud?"

I denied that request but suggested stretching the cord as far as we could and setting it on the floor to let the carpet absorb some of the noise.  Deal.

Adam: "Oh, actually, Mom, could you set it for 8:10?"

So with alarm set for 8:10, he went to sleep.

At this point I suppose I should return to telling the story of Mothers Day, but I have to back up a bit more to a family party earlier in the day.

Grandma Fife: "Adam, are you going to get up and make breakfast in bed for your mom tomorrow?"

Adam (dripping with the annoyance of a surprise nearly spoiled): "I can't tell her if I am or not... that would ruin the surprise."

And to the previous night...

Adam: "Oh, Mom, on Sunday, can you please not get out of bed for a little while?"

Kirk's Dad told our nephew that Mothers Day is not wife's day.  It is not a day when the dad is supposed to spoil the mom, but a day for the kids to get to say thank you.  In that sense, this truly was my first Mothers Day.  It was the first time that one of my kids grasped the idea all on his own and went out of his way to make it special.

With Daddy's supervision, he made my eggs.



He was the ringleader and tray-holder of the procession into my room.


 In addition to breakfast, I got a great card Alex made at school, and an adorable Pickle lying on my pillow.


Even with Adam stealing the Mothers Day show, Kirk did a pretty awesome job.  It's nice to have a husband who religiously reads my blog, because he knows about this, this, and helped me accomplish #33 on this.  What better gift than a well-loved, stolen-from-the-library (he paid the replacement fee) copy of The BFG to start my used book collection?


And, knowing I'd want to blog about it, he documented the whole morning.

I'm kind of liking this whole REAL Mothers Day concept!

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