Yesterday I reminded my husband that Mother’s Day was coming up.  I told him that if he made sure mine was good that I might write about it in my blog and if it was bad (Insert Dramatic Pause) well, that might be good writing material as well.

“Is that a threat?” he asked.

Perhaps it is.  You see Mother’s Day is MY HOLIDAY.  Some women like big-production birthday parties: some like jewels encased in robin’s egg blue boxes under their Christmas trees; some love a loaded table at Thanksgiving.  I however like Mother’s Day.  I don’t care if it was a holiday made up by Hallmark; it was a good idea and I’m going with it- yay Hallmark.

I like useless ugly knickknacks fashioned firsthand by my children.  I will always cherish the cat Beau made out of floam when he was five even if at this point it has only one whisker and no limbs.  I love that cat-worm.  Then there’s the box he made me when he was ten.  Sure it’s glued shut never to be opened again but it will always have a place in my heart and on my dresser.  Let’s not forget the Fill in the Blank book his teachers had him working on for weeks in first grade; sure I look like Ronald McDonald on crack on the cover but at least he remembered what color my hair was that week and what’s more it was filled with beauties like this:

I KNOW MY MOM IS REALLY MAD WHEN SHE:

“Looks at me with a mean face”

I’d feel bad about that zinger but I figured the teachers just thought he had a vivid imagination because on the very next page he said this:

ALL DAY LONG MY MOM:

“Cleans the house”

As I said, vivid vivid imagination.

So daddies this one really goes out to you.  Crack out the floam, stir up the paints, and go find a skein of yarn to wrap around a juice cup because every Mom needs a pencil cup, limbless cat or three-eyed portrait from their little darling.  Mother’s Day is less then a week away and you and the kids got work to do…or else.

P.S.  As I am writing this I am reminded of a friend whose child would never ever forget Mother’s Day and she has fifteen pairs of earrings to prove it; all of us however are not so duly blessed and unless she’s considering letting me adopt him then my husband better start prompting our kids ASAP.