I Demand a Do-Over

 (Warning-I’m going to whine and complain a bit here.  If that’s not your thing, go vote in the Catholic Cannonball awards and come back tomorrow for something a bit more cheerful.)

Was yesterday Mother’s Day?  It was kind of hard to tell around here. 

The day started off with everyone sleeping too late to make it to our regular Mass (which is okay with me..I need the sleep), so we were all a bit off our Sunday morning make it to Mass routine.  I kept waiting for some enterprising child to make Breakfast for Mom, you know the nasty ritual of breakfast in bed?  Not at our house.  The little darlings used the extra time in the morning to scarf Froot Loops and watch Wall-E.  They waved at me and hollered “Happy Mother’s Day” to me as I went into the kitchen to make a piece of toast for myself.  The sink was piled with the dirty breakfast dishes.  I made up my mind then and there to NOT wash the dishes.  (My eldest two made a half-hearted attempt at cleaning the kitchen later in the day, but never quite finished it as texting friends and watching a movie lured them away.)

After Mass, which was gorgeous and glorious, I told my family that I wanted to dispense with the weekly ritual of doughnuts after Mass in favor of bagels from Panera bread.  I love an Asiago cheese bagel.  Serious yumminess.  They were out of them, not just the cheesy goodness I craved, but they were completely out of all bagels.   It was beginning to look like one of those days.

We got home with just enough time to change clothes and make our way to the soccer fields for our games of the day.  That’s right, someone (I’m guessing someone who hates his mother) scheduled soccer games on Mother’s Day.  Four hours of soccer in the cold and the damp, and I couldn’t skip out because I coach one of the teams.  I left before the end of the last game.  I’m just that kind of bad mother. (Is that why yesterday sucked?  Hmmmmm….)

I came home and made dinner.  A dinner no one ended up liking.  Watched a Netflix movie on my laptop with my eldest daughter but the volume was so low that we could hardly hear it.  Then it was time for bed and the kids kissed me good night and went to sleep.  I awoke this morning to all those dishes in the sink.  It’s not Mother’s Day today, so I guess I’ll wash them.

I don’t want to complain, and I know they love me, but would it have been so difficult to make a card?  To write me a note?  To pick up after themselves?  Just one day out of the year?

I’m trying to console myself with the memories of those hurried kisses and sideways well-wishes, but it’s coming a bit short.  I have given up my life for them.  Is it too much to ask for to want them to notice it?