This Mother’s Day? Please don’t ask me what I want. Don’t ask me to think. Don’t leave it to me to plan the day.
It’s not even that I want to be left alone — it’s not that I’m expecting “silence,” as many assume. I’d love to hear laughter and the pitter patter of our daughter’s little feet running across the floor. Echoes of giggles as she screams “tickle crabs” and comes at me with glee. This, I can handle. This I want.
Don’t ask that morning what I want for breakfast. Maybe ask a few weeks before. Or surprise me by remembering that restaurant or recipe I wanted to try. Or at least an actual hot cup of coffee or tea — the ability to enjoy it hot will be the gift.
Don’t ask how I want to spend the day. The act of not thinking is the gift. Maybe plan some down time — maybe a moment of self-care, whatever that may look like. Maybe a mani/ pedi, a good book, or a day with friends. Maybe it’s all of us curled up as a family, in front of the TV for a midday movie with a “cupcake snack tin.” Or time spent in a garden or by the ocean.
Don’t ask what I want for a gift. See what’s leftover from my holiday or birthday wishlist. A homemade card or picture. Something I’ve saved to my cart and “keep meaning to treat myself to.” Maybe it’s running an errand for me and taking something off my load. Or putting together a family photo shoot or a gift card to a favorite restaurant. Maybe even a night away — just me.
Don’t ask, just show. Show me you know me, and show me your love. In the moments that matter, what counts is remembering what I said — even when I was just “thinking out loud.” Show me by planning and collecting nuggets of info, from the days — maybe even weeks — prior, slowly over time. Will you put effort into taking one thing off my plate, so this full and overflowing invisible load is not one more thing I have to think of for myself or others on this day?
Save me this Mother’s Day — this moment — and make it about me. About us — our family. Just please don’t ask me to do it. Not today.
