What Moms Really Want...

Mother’s Day is coming. Two days and counting. I’ve marked my calendar with one of those corny stickers that proclaims to everyone who passes by the refrigerator, “This is an important day! Don’t you dare forget it!” And I’m sure no one will. My family loves me and no doubt will shower me with wonderful gifts: Delicious chocolates (my favorite vice in all the world), gorgeous, sweet-smelling flowers, mushy cards that remind me how much I am appreciated and probably a scrumptious meal at a fancy-schmancy restaurant—where all five of us will dine together.

Please don’t think for a minute that I would ever turn up my nose at my family’s attempts to make me feel extra special on Mother’s Day, because they do—and I do as a result. Each year they surprise me in some remarkable way and I am eternally grateful for their well-meaning efforts to give me what I truly crave. Sadly, however, they often miss the boat to Blissville. When it comes to “tuning in” to my innermost desires as a mom, time and again my family fails to locate my signals, let alone interpret them correctly. It’s sort of like watching archaeologists decipher hieroglyphics on a cave wall in order to learn what the skywriter above has written.

So I am left with but few options this Mother’s Day. I could attempt to convey my wishes through telepathy, using my standard-issue female mind powers to transmit secret messages to my brood. I could drop subtle hints by sticking Post-it notes everywhere from our dust-covered television screen to the empty milk jug, still in the fridge. Surely, that would get their attention. Or I could formally publish my wish list here and ostensibly reach all of Planet Blog. Public humiliation gets ‘em every time.

With any luck, the following suggestions will also hold potential value for other families who are eager to please Mom this Mother’s Day but haven’t a clue as to how to go about it.

1) For starters, let Mom take a real, live NAP. Not one of those namby-pamby dozing sessions on the couch that lasts for 15 minutes, rife with interruptions of the non-urgent variety. Set some hard and fast ground rules too. No one is to disturb Mom unless the sky is falling or someone’s hair is on fire.
2) Pick up after each other. That’s what Mom does 24/7. Give her a break for Pete’s sake! That means no smelly sneakers, underwear or sweat socks lying around for all to “enjoy,” no barbed toys lying in wait for her on the stairs and no decomposing apple cores on the coffee table or empty Cheetos bags stuffed under the sofa pillows. Muster the strength, somehow, to make it to the hamper, toy box and trash can. She manages to do it, even when she’s dead tired.
3) Relinquish the remote control for a day. Just one day. Honestly, how tough can it be? Let her choose the programming for once and don’t have a cow if she sticks with one station for more than ten minutes. The world won’t stop revolving if one less viewer tunes in to primetime rubbish geared to teens and young adults. Even Donald Trump doesn’t have that much power.
4) Remember to close things: The refrigerator door, the toilet seat and lid, the Wonder bread wrapper, the Jiff jar (‘cause your mom is a choosy mom), your dresser drawers, the back door and your mouth—to curb the spillage of all that less-than-endearing commentary that tends to flow like a river from time to time.
5) Make a concerted effort to get along with your siblings. Mom is probably sick and tired of blowing the whistle on all of your shenanigans. Not to mention, her wardrobe has suffered greatly since the addition of referee stripes. At all costs, refrain from causing anyone to bleed—especially on the good carpeting.

When that special day finally arrives, strive to think of Mom above all else—putting her wishes before your own. Try to tune in to what she holds dear and would be the most meaningful to her. Certainly, a good way to start is by considering some of the winning ideas from the aforementioned wish list. It’s either that or begin a painstaking search for those blasted Post-it notes right now.

Planet Mom: It’s where I live. Visit me there at www.notesfromplanetmom.com.

Copyright 2007 Melinda L. Wentzel