My husband is cooking dinner tonight. It’s not that he doesn’t offer to help out with dinner on other nights — because he does. I do most of the cooking because I love to do it. But today is Mother’s Day and my husband truly believes I should have the day off. [He’s good about giving me “time off” at nights and on weekends, which I appreciate since my daughter (aka: my employer) has crummy vacation and sick leave policies.] And while my husband does wonderful things for me every day of the year and is a great father, it’s only once a year that I get things like this:
He worked with my daughter and some tubes of paint to get her to create a Mother’s Day card for me. It’s one of the most precious cards I’ve ever received since I know a lot of love and hard work went into it.
I spent my third Mother’s Day going to the same restaurant as I did for my first Mother’s Day. I went to the local botanical gardens, which I did on my first Mother’s Day too. I don’t need whistles and bells. Just time with the ones I love, which today was my husband, daughter, and parents.
When I lay down in bed at the end of each day, no matter how stressful it was, I am always grateful to be a mom. I wanted to be a mom for as long as I could remember. Having my daughter a little over two years ago was such a blessing. I never take her presence in my life for granted.