For Mother's Day.
My son asked me tonight what those scrinkly things are on my forehead. What skrinkly things? I asked, thinking I must have had something stuck to my face. I looked in the mirror and he pointed at the long vertical lines etched into my skin. Those, he said.
What do I want for Mother’s Day? I want Botox.
My daughter asked me last week if I would please not yell at her when I put her to bed that night.
What do I want for Mother’s Day? I want patience at eight-thirty p.m.
My husband asked me today if I remembered to call the vet to make an appointment for the dog. No, I said. I forgot. I also forgot to pay my daughter’s tuition for camp, which was due on Friday. I also forgot to send a birthday card to my sister-in-law. I also forgot to buy deodorant.
What do I want for Mother’s Day? I want an organizer that I won’t forget to use.
My friend is getting engaged, and asked if I would go with him to pick out a ring. I will, I told him, but I can only go on Wednesdays, between ten and ten forty-five. What do I want for Mother’s Day? I want free time.
I told myself that I am going to lose five pounds before summer, but I’ve had dessert every night this week.
What do I want for Mother’s Day? I want willpower.
I watched Newt Gingrich on The Daily Show the other day, grinning about the standoff between Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama.
What do I want for Mother’s Day? I want a Democratic nominee.
My husband told me this morning that he needs me to help out more, because he can’t work and take care of everything at home, too. I asked him who, he thinks, makes dinner? Who, he thinks, packs the kids’ lunches? Who makes their doctor and dentist appointments, and takes them to those appointments? Who buys the presents for their friends’ birthday parties? Who picks them up from school every day, and takes them to their after school activities? Who buys their clothes? Who makes sure Harper does her homework? Who does the grocery shopping? Who plans their playdates? Who gets their teachers gifts at the end of the year?
What do I want for Mother’s Day? I want a new husband.
My daughter is turning six in ten days. What do I want for Mother’s Day? I want to stop time.
My family asked me the other day, what do you want for Mother’s Day? Would you like a necklace with our names on them? A nice brunch at a hotel by the beach? How about a massage, or breakfast in bed? Yes, I said. Any of those things would be lovely.
What do I want for Mother’s Day? It doesn’t really matter. I’m not going to get it.







07.17.08
I can't believe someone else got the "what are those on your forehead?" question. When my son asked me why I had them, I curtly answered "because I'm old," thinking that would end the conversation. Just the opposite-we went through the whole list of who was old and had wrinkles like me, and who was young and didn't have wrinkles. He still brings it up sometimes -- like I need reminding!!
05.15.08
OMG...that is hilarious -- those EXACT thoughts run through my mind for every situation though I am lucky that my husband is very helpful & yes, domestic. Thanks for making my laugh and making me realize that I'm not the only mom thinking/feeling this way. :oD
05.13.08
I am so happy to hear that I am not the only one who thinks men are from another planet!!! And feel the exact same way I do...now I only wish you guys were here and we all had time to go out for drinks..oh well another Mother's Day wish soured.
05.07.08
I've asked for the same thing each year: an hour alone with a good cup of coffee, a scone, and the New York Times. In the grand scheme of presents, pretty cheap! Will I get it? Probably not.
05.07.08
I want to sleep, undisturbed, as long and as much as I want. Guess what? Not getting it.
05.06.08
Yes! I totally agree!
05.06.08
what is with husbands? they just don't get it. mine is the same, always with the pressure to be a wife and woman to him. where are the date nights and wild passionate sex, he asks (no, demands)? why do i let the baby (2.5 year old) Affect me so much? prime example, just yesterday ...the baby and I pick him up from the commuter train station after work and because our last hour at home had been filled with approximately 3.5 huge meltdowns Mommy was not her usual chipper self in greeting husband. There was no warm smiley June Cleaver greeting 'why hello ward. how was your day? we so missed you'. no instead i was quiet, a bit tense, and a tear trickled down my face. the tear itself could be a whole separate psychologocal study...i believe i was so relieved to have another parental unit to shoulder some of the childrearing (another pair of ears to hear the cries) that it was a tear of relief. but my husband chooses that moment to exclaim 'see this is what i am talking about...you always seem so overwhelmed. evenings are alwasy so stressful. there is alwasy so much tension. is it that hard?'...ENOUGH with the Always, enough with the pressure. i have enough self imposed pressure. anyway, this is more than you wanted. but all i want for mother's day is a husband who gets it.