Mother's Day

A restaurant brunch, mimosas, bouquets of flowers and a corsage for church, heartfelt cards, mani/pedi and massage gift certificates, maybe even a rose bush for the yard. It's the quintessential Mother's Day. And if that was your day, lucky Mama! I'm sure you enjoyed every moment of it with your family.

But if you're the mom of littles, I'm guessing your day looked a little more like this:

Her hand is in a heart, but since she cried and cried after I "took" it from her, I gave it back to her knowing it would somehow end up torn. Tape to the rescue, I guess. It'll make a cute story one day. 

This is the best photo we got... And not because it's funny. Because they're all looking up. 

The Beginning of a Dandelion Bouquet

A giagantic store bought cookie that I purchased along with some sides for our
impromptu, at-home cookout... because I wanted it. 

As a mom of the "Kindergarten-and-Under" crowd, I'm still learning that a Mother's Day that suits my whole family is better than a picture perfect one. Last year I told my husband all I wanted was to go to a restaurant and get a nice picture with all 3 of my kids. So we went to a restaurant and suddenly the baby started to have a mind of her own (this was the moment we realized we don't go out to eat as a family EVER and she had NO IDEA how to behave in a restaurant), throwing things on the floor an squealing. And I got a picture with me and each of the girls, but not with my Bubby Boo... Because he wasn't into it. About 20 min into our Mother's Day restaurant adventure, we were shaking our heads wondering why we tried to put our square pegged family into the nice, smooth, round hole of Mother's Day. Duh.

When you expect 3 kids to pose perfectly for your Mother's Day photo op, or a 2 year old to sit still in a restaurant for more than 30 min without disturbing EVERYONE in the restaurant, or for your little ducklings to go shopping for 2 hours without protest, or for your toddler to be able to skip that afternoon nap... Well, you'll likely be disappointed. And for us, that has meant skipping larger family celebrations, which makes me sad, but I know in the end that it's torture for everyone. Me, the kids, grandparents, great-grandparents, the strangers in the restaurants... Really. And, as much as the cynic in me has some jokes about it, I'm pretty sure Mother's Day wasn't meant to be torture.

I'd love to go out for a lunch that includes a mimosa, a beautiful bouquet of flowers, gifts to pamper myself and a picture of me and my children all smiling, eyes open and facing the camera, I know that day will come, and it will probably come sooner than I want it to. For now, I'll take that Johnsonville Brat my husband grilled with 3 store bought sides and accompanying store bought giant cookie and a bottle of water while I watch my 3 kids playing in the back yard, blowing bubbles and picking me a dandelion and clover bouquet on a sunny day. 

A sweet little moment of hugs and kisses (once it was evident that a "good" picture wasn't happening)