Kids have it so darned easy on Mother’s Day. When they’re babies the expectations aren’t all that high as far as bestowing presents goes. When they get into the cute toddler phase, they manage to say just the right thing in preschool for the Mother’s Day card. I believe one of my children once answered the query “When does your mother look prettiest?” with “When she wears her sweatshirt with the fur on it.”  I’ve always been on the cutting edge of fashion. I’d love to see a photo of me in that, too.

Then kids continue the Mother’s Day schtick throughout the elementary school years, bringing home whatever their teachers made them make and they get fawned over for that.  Don’t get me wrong, I don’t care a bit about Mother’s Day (just ask my own mother), but most mothers I know are too easily pleased. At some point we want our children taken away for a few hours on Mother’s Day, at another phase we’re tickled by a child just sitting in our laps for a few minutes, and then when the children are much older, we’re thrilled if they show up for a free meal. 

I liked the years when I intertwined my little known creation that never quite caught on–Yard Day–with Mother’s Day and we all picked up sticks and weeded together happily–for a few minutes probably. I did impose a hike down and up Crabtree Falls one Mother’s Day, which included almost cracking the axles of my nearly new minivan on a road that required 4-wheel drive, a rattlesnake sighting, a great dinner afterwards in Scottsville, and a sing-along on the drive home to celebrate surviving and even enjoying the day.

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