El Dia De Las Madres

The truth about Mother's Day is you rarely get what you actually want.  When I was a mom of younger kids what I really wanted was to sleep in, skip church, eat ice cream in my bed alone and pretend to not have kids for 24 hours.  Not that waking up to the sound of kids fighting at 6:30 am so you can have breakfast in bed by 7:00 am isn't great too, but....  To be fair I've had some great gifts to mark this day in the past, but in my experience a gift seems to lessen the responsibility of answering to my beck and call and I prefer to be waited on.

Besides, what I really want for Mother's Day this year isn't possible.  Sure, a maid would be nice, maybe a day at the spa, perhaps a double header of Dancing With The Stars to watch William Levy muster up a Cuban salsa number would rock my world - all good options to show your beloved your gratitude for ALLTHETHINGSTHEYDOFORYOU, but what I want?  What I really want?

No.
Homework.

Is anyone out there shouting out a "hallelujah" or an "amen" in this regard?  I'm telling you, having older kids is much more suited to my psychological well being but the homework has a tendency to kill my happiness.  I mean, don't reel me in with tales of sleeping through the night and trips to Disneyland where everyone is tall enough for EVERY ride and then give me Holy Crap I Forgot To Major In Math So I Could Get My Kids Through High School.  Sure, our kids are old enough now that we don't need babysitters.  But they are also old enough that they have to read War & Peace over the weekend and write a 15 page summary about how it reminds them of their family by Monday.  Which means a date night on Saturday only drags out the meltdown through Sunday.  Total buzz kill.  It reminds me how I felt when I got all excited about Pierce Brosnan being in The Lightning Thief, only to find out they had covered him in facial hair and stuck him in a wheelchair for his role.  Honestly, if you're going to reel me in with "Pierce Brosnan" I'm going to need a suit, some wingtips and a steely gaze.  Don't kill it and give me the Geico caveman. 

No homework.  That's what I want.

I think I'm ready for summer.

To Do List

Most of my thinking happens in the bathroom.  For such occasions I keep a whiteboard marker handy so I can write myself notes and reminders on my mirror.  Here's what it says right now:

Mole Check
Mammogram
Glaucoma Test

And now you know why I haven't had anything to say for a month.