I did something different this year in preparation for Mother's Day. I asked for something. Specifically, I made a breakfast-menu request. And so, my day started with amazing cornmeal blueberry pancakes. TG (being TG) did more than standard recipe-research due diligence and came up with a very tasty formula.
The best part of Mother's Day is that I get to be a mom to this amazing, intelligent, goofy ten-year-old sidekick. He's the kid who takes a shirt, tie, and jacket to his grandpa's house in the woods so he can dress up for my birthday dinner and Mother's Day breakfast. And he's the kid who surprises me with the facts he has amassed in his curious mind.
He asked whether I knew what Thomas Edison had invented. Thinking the answer was obvious, I went straight to "incandescent lightbulb." True enough, but he was referring to the electric chair. Yeah, I didn't know that. And I gladly admitted it. Edison had more than 1000 patents, why should I expect my kid to pick the most obvious one? (The History Channel strikes again.)
But that's not just the best part of Mother's Day. It's the best part of any day. Being @’s mom is a privilege in more ways than one. It’s not that he’s just a great kid, but that he overcame so many challenges to survive. He's here. I get to celebrate him. In my heart, I have his twin, who will always be a part of me. On certain days, that's a more bittersweet reality than on others.
Mother's Day is complicated. Or it feels complicated to me. Or I make it complicated in my head. But it's not for the reasons surrounding my own motherhood. There are other pieces to it that don't particularly co-exist all that well -- namely the whole "daughterhood" part.