Mothers Day

 Mother’s Day is always an adventure. I dread it and look forward to it at the same time.  This year my daughter actually let me sleep for an hour extra before she woke me up with urgent news that:
“I had to open her present right now!”
So, I did and it was adorable: a handprint made out of a new plaster material and painted in rainbow colors.  She informed me that she used two types of blue.  We do a fair amount of painting together, so we can talk about colors for a while.
Then, I took her to dance class and a dad there made a comment about being there because it was mother’s day. In other words, the little dancer’s mother had the day off, or at least one hour in the morning. I went to sit outside where there was better light for reading and was greeted at the end of class by an upset daughter who informed me that I had missed the Mother’s Day dance.  When I asked the teacher about it, she said it had just been a spontaneous thing…oh well.  I had been so focused on trying to get a little editing done before the day was eaten up by family commitments.

Even on Mother’s Day, mothers who are writers have to juggle writing and family…

My darling recovered when we went into Toys R Us (right next door) to get her “sleeping-well present” for under 5 dollars. Otherwise I might as well give her a dollar-present every day like I was doing before…but I got so sick of getting all that junk from Target or the 99cent store and throwing it away a month later or when it broke, which was usually sooner.  She picked out a new set of dress up shoes (cost $4.98) for her friends to use when they come over to play dress up and all was well.   

We went home, collected Dad and sped off to Descanso Gardens to meet my mother-in-law, and the rest of my husband’s family.  They had already finished their brunch but we sat with them at their table and ate salad in containers from home and then dashed off to smell the roses.
It ended up a good way to spend time together under the very tall trees and away from the craziness of the city. 
I’m not sure how any of this relates but there may be a picture book in here somewhere.

Why do I get so nervous about this day?  Why do I feel so put on the spot?  Like I am being scrutinized as a mother?  Like the whole thing is just an excuse to neglect mother’s the rest of the year?