I had a bittersweet holiday today, as today was Mother’s Day here in the states. I had planned on lavishly lounging in bed until a decent hour, when my husband and children would excitedly meet me in my bedroom with a tray of utter deliciousness and pounds of handmade gifts and squeals of excitement.
And I did get that. Kind of.
We went to bed around 1am, after a torrid night of getting our affairs in order, while trying everything to get a hungry abet cranky baby to sleep, taking turns handing her off to one another. And the kiddo finally conked out around midnight. Derrick and I rushed to finish updating our sites and fish through our emails, getting out the replies that couldn’t wait. When we finally crashed into bed, it was nearly 1 o’clock this morning. The baby awoke with a starving scream around 2:45am and the grouch in me was upset Derrick hadn’t thawed breastmilk to allow me to sleep in on my holiday. But we both fell back to sleep rather quickly. Only to be startled back awake at 5:40am by Derrick’s alarm. I tried to fall back asleep, and just as I was about to, the baby wailed into my left ear for the boob. I knew I was up for the day. It was 6:20am. My sleeping in was a thing of past dreams.
Derrick must’ve heard me talking, singing or coo-ing at her because he quickly paced in with a cup of sweet creamed coffee and that smell instantly put me in a much better mood. I turned on the news and sipped my coffee while playing with the baby. Once she fell asleep, I grew restless of my chambers and began cleaning; I made the bed, picked up shoes and random bits of trash, put loose change into my savings box and folded a basket’s worth of laundry.
But when Derrick walked in with that amazing breakfast, I instantly paused my DVR (newest Grey’s Anatomy episode–I’m either too tired or too busy to watch it the night it airs–thank goodness for DVRs!)
Talk about spoiled! He made a meal fit for a Queen. His Queen. The mother of his children and he did not disappoint. I was literally heartbroken when I succumbed to defeat and couldn’t finish this glorious meal. My man has skills!
Once everyone said their “I love you”‘s and “You’re the best, mom” and “You’re so much cooler than dad”‘s and handed me their amazing little works of art (handmade cards, and I now have a little potted flower garden to add to my window box herb garden!) I finished my episode of Grey’s and trotted into the kitchen, as giddy as a filly. I began preparing the foods for the Mother’s Day Luncheon I was hosting for my mom, grandma (who decided to be a no-show and go to my Aunt Rebecca’s house instead), my sister-in-law Shandale and her mother Dalene!
We enjoyed a delicious menu of BBQ Chicken Sliders and cold salads, Lavender Lemonade, Rose-infused Iced Tea and wine, delicious, well-deserved wine. The kiddos played (and got in trouble a few times for jumping on beds, hiding under metal trundles and swinging items like a violent bat at a damn pinata! But overall, they were mostly good today). We sat and bull-shitted about anything and everything; and as much as I love and adore my husband, it was kind of nice having just us moms here (still sucks that he didn’t get the full 3 day weekend his bosses promised him days ago for my holiday).
We exchanged gifts and I was surprised by an amazing drawing my daughter Evelyn made for me (framed and all to boot!).
My amazing SIL got me two things (actually 3, but she gave me the awesome SuperMom coffee cup a couple weeks back–it’s in the photo of my breakfast above) which were a kickass water bottle (which I desperately need because these kids are trying their damnedest to break the one plastic one for my my smoothie blender I do have) and a hilarious wine glass that says “All Mom wishes for is a Silent Night” with sparkly silver stars all over it and a pretty shade of teal stem.
As the night began to wind down; I read them an excerpt from my children’s book I’m writing (so excited to get this ball rolling!) and I got awesome feedback! Super happy.
We all said our good-byes and just as everyone was pulling away, Derrick came home from work for his first break. I told him there were plenty of leftovers and to keep an eye on Ivy, that I needed a break from all the excitement and overstimulation. Hence me being here, writing this now (after uploading, editing and re-uploading more images to add to this post). I tandem nursed the baby and pumped, I doled out the kids’ night chores points earnings and emailed myself the poem I wrote for mothers on Earth Day, so I could share it here.
And this is where I’ll leave you; you never know how your day’s gunna go, but you gotta learn to roll with the punches. There may not be actual monetary holiday pay for us mothers today, but I’ll tell you; I am rich in love, support and laughter–the three basic needs my soul needs to continue to thrive as a mama. I may not have what the hipsters refer to as a “Mom Tribe” but my heart is pretty content with the little circle I do have.
Here’s the poem I wrote on Earth Day April 22, 2017:
“This is why they call You, Mother earth”
by Patricia “Tricia” Rathgeber-Bruno
When I have the courage to look below the soft, life-giving mounds, unto what used to be a gentle comfort plain with a warming give, all I see now is a war-torn battlefield.
Where some lives were won, some were lost and one was left beaten, battered, bruised and scarred.
With caverns that shimmer, whose deep cuts rival the moon’s silvery gleam.
Whose softness has expired and has become a rough, barren glacier.
Who used to soak up the rays of a blistering sun, now cowers under as many layers as possible.
And even further south; an untouched Sahara, who’s rivers have dried, leaving behind signs of a previous life.
Lush gardens flourished once upon a time, now the harsh lands only coax wiry weeds to make one wince.
But there is life-giving moisture under the surface if one is just willing to look, rather than to suggest a re-beautification.
Why not water?
Why not prune?
Why not add artificial trimmings to portray a healthy façade?
Traveling further in each direction; you reach the limbs of strength.
But even they grow weak from having to deflect all the harsh self-criticism of the landscape.
And even further south, you find the roots.
Roots that once held you steady in even the strongest, toughest and scariest of storms.
Now, now they tremble and shake and second-guess their abilities to keep you upright.
To keep you moving forward.
And even though all of this is reflected in the shining pools of truth, you choose to ignore the bitter harsh reality because that new Foreigner, with fresh eyes and an eager soul has Its sight on your property as the foundation for Their new home.
You are Their land of milk and honey.
You are Their hopeful start and even though breaking ground in your concrete hardened desert may be difficult, They’re up to the challenge.
They may be tiny, but don’t underestimate Their strength and ability to find soften soul soil under all those layers of bedrock.
Just know that with each lonely tear of fluid you rain upon that barren wilderness, the Foreigner is tending to an unseen garden inside you.
You are The ecosystem.
They don’t call you “Mother” earth for nothing.
Happy Mother’s Day!