I don't really like Mother's Day. I prefer everyday gratitude, which is what I try to practice, and I expect my children to do the same.
I always send the grandmas flowers, which seems to make them very happy, and I'm more than happy to oblige. I told my own family not to get me anything, but conceded that I would accept a doughnut with my morning coffee. So when the doorbell rang at 9:30 this morning and I saw the telltale bit of bird of paradise through the window, I hollered with some irritation, "I told you no flowers."
The deliveryman was laughing when I opened the door.
The spouse blamed it on the kids ("They insisted!"), who in turn blamed it on their father ("It was his idea!").
So I hugged them all and thanked them.
But I would have been happy with just the doughnut.
I'm happy to skip the overpriced brunches and "special" dinners. I'd rather go to a baseball game, which I've done many years, or a Rush concert, which I did last year. Forget the chocolates, I'd rather have a chain saw (okay, so I got a wheelbarrow). I really don't need stuff (though I could use the chain saw), and I'd rather just spend time with my family, doing something everyone can enjoy.
The spouse and I watched the ballgame. We all had a nice lunch. We went to see a movie.
We'll call the day a win.
Go listen to some good music: "Reuben and Rachel" is a traditional children's song written by Harry Birch. When the children were very small, I would sing to them at bedtime. They got to choose the songs from the repertoire of those I knew, and for a long time, "Reuben and Rachel" was a favorite of them both.