I was all set to post about my Mother's Day and all the presents and flowers and special treatment that I didn't get from my family and I was going to add some cheese with my whine to go along with it. But first I decided to eat my lunch, a salad from Trader Joe's, and read the latest edition of US Weekly and after reading one particular story, I totally changed my intent.
Despite my kids not doing anything special for me, their Mother, who suffered two difficult pregnancies and traumatic deliveries just to give them Life, on Mother's Day, I just have to thank my lucky stars that I have two really great kids.
Unlike so many parents today, I've never had a phone call from jail or a hospital letting me know they have my kid. I've never found my kids passed out on the front lawn, wearing a toga and covered in dog urine. I've never had the disappointing experience of hearing, "Mom, I'm pregnant/I got this girl pregnant" and I hope and pray I don't hear those words until my children are married to their BabyMama and/or BabyDaddy and it's at least another 10 years until that time. I don't have to issue statements to the press denying on a weekly basis that my child is a drug addict/alcoholic/sex addict/kleptomaniac. I don't have to read the news that my child is an alcoholic/drug addict/sex addict/kleptomaniac.
I've never had to take my kids to rehab for the third time. I've never had to commit my child to a psychiatric unit. I've never had to call the cops on my own child because I thought they were a danger to themselves and to others.
What I do have is a daughter who tells me every day that I'm beautiful, even when I don't have makeup on and my gray roots are an inch wide and I have a big pimple on the end of my nose. I have a son who doesn't push me away when I want to hug him. Well, sometimes. It's hit and miss. I have two children who tell me they love me on a regular basis.
I have two children who make me proud and that is better than flowers and cards any day.