It's not that I don't want to hang out with my kids on Mothers Day. I do - they're cool kids (I'm a proud mom, what can I say?) The thing is, I don't want to hang out with them like a mom. I want to hang out with them like a grandma.
I want somebody else to make them breakfast while I sit at the table sipping tea and sneaking them extra squirts of whipped cream.
I want somebody else to do the dishes while I romp off with the kids to play fairies and pick flowers.
I want to take the kids out to ice cream and cheerfully allow them two scoops AND sprinkles AND a sugar cone. And then I want to hand them off to somebody else once the sugar crash comes.
I want to buy them any toy they want at the toy store and then silently distance myself when they start fighting over each other's new item.
I want to do all the cuddling, but none of the diaper changing or nose wiping.
I want to be the recipient of all the big hugs but none of the big screams or protests.
I want to take them out for even more ice cream right before bedtime without paying any mind to the fact that they'll never fall asleep.
I want to brush and braid their hair without them turning into floppy fish.
I want to read bedtime stories then leave before the whining and restlessness starts.
I want to keep them up playing all night without having to be the one to wake up to their cranky, overtired cries at 6am.
That's all I want. To be a grandma for a day. I'll even put on pantyhose and wear orange lipstick if it'll help me get the job.
Like what you see? Check out my quirky memoir about finding your path in life.
I'D RATHER WEAR PAJAMAS