Mothers’ Day

Let it be said that I pretty much feel like every day is a mother’s day at our house.  Sometimes it means that a mother does all the dishes (yay for clean hands!) or that a mother has to deal with something gross (bugs are fun nature! The cat box refreshes our biology knowledge!  The baby birds disappeared from the plant – ahh how lucky we are to appreciate the fragility of life!)  Other times it means that a mother is winning at life (Mom sleeps through the night! Mom notices the floor is clean enough not to mop!  Mom gets non-junk mail!)  Mainly, at our house, it’s exciting to be a mother, whether it’s the aforementioned thrills or the delicious little cherub that laughs, sings and dances.

So there it is, a holiday to commemorate it all.  When I was a child, Mother’s Day consisted mainly of us saying Happy Mother’s Day! and then promptly leaving the house.  I get that – I cherish time I get in the house alone though I’m not sure that’s the gift I’d pick for myself.  Now that I’m an adult, I remember to call my mother, which is a marked improvement over the norm.  And as a mother myself, I had a perfectly excellent weekend, despite any formal celebration.

We dug two more gardens on Saturday and I’m sore in that way that way that extended kneeling and squatting will get you.  Warped it may be, but I love the way the stiffness reminds me of the new plants in the ground.  I also got an unexpected Mother’s Day gift from the neighbor across the street.  She invited us to come over and see her backyard which is clearly the labor of 50 years in the house (and also clearly her pride and joy).  In the course of the tour, she identified several seedings and plants to give to me and sent me back with 20 new additions.  While I felt like a gardener before (in the sense that I have gardens and they take up my time) getting seedlings from another gardener and discussing shade vs. sun vs. soil alkalinity?  You guys, that was my personal gardener goal of all time.  I didn’t know that this is the sort of mother I’d grow up to be but I’m extremely happy about it.

We’re looking at a lifetime of Mother’s Days.  And surprisingly, even though most people we know are flabbergasted that we don’t have distinct names for ourselves (we are both ‘mama’), no one asked us how we celebrate Mother’s Day.  Those of you who are, will be or were raised by double mothers/fathers, how do you (or they) celebrate mother’s/father’s day?  Do you make sure everyone gets their own day?  Do you share?  Who makes breakfast in bed?  We are very excited to hear your ideas!

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