To be able to have a PIP (poop in peace.) My kids are older so they have stopped following me IN the bathroom but they still feel the need to converse with me while I’m on the pot. Why? Why not when I’m on the couch?
To watch my shows in peace. Natalie decides to do a dance right when Jeff Probst announces who has been kicked off Survivor. She decides to sing at the top of her lungs when a shocker is announced on Grey’s Anatomy (Bailey did what?!) I just want everyone to shut up and entertain themselves.
To not become a human tissue. Seriously. Stop wiping your disgusting snot on me, kids. Go look in the bathroom where you’ll find some fabulous things called tissues. And I’m also not a napkin. Thanks for the spaghetti sauce stain on my favorite shirt, Natalie.
To be able to read for a couple of hours. Natalie finds it funny to take my books—and HIDE THEM! “You have to ask me for clues,” she’ll say, which some people would find cute, but I find annoying as hell. I’d like to figure out where Amy went in Gone Girl. (I did, finally. After asking Natalie like 20 questions. It turns out she hid my book in her bottom drawer.)
To be able to WRITE for a couple of hours. I’m trying to revise a book I wrote. And write a new one. People ask me, “When will you have another book out?” Well, when my kids learn to entertain themselves. When I can afford a nanny.
To want to be able to eat whatever I want and not have to share. No, I do NOT want to give anyone a bite of my cake. Piss off. I’d also like calories not to count.
To not have to say things like, “We don’t powder our butts with marshmallows!” and, “Stop! If you don’t want your lollipop anymore, throw it in the trash. Do NOT set it on the cat! He doesn’t like it!”
Since Tom is gone, it’s unlikely that I’ll get a lot of peace on Mother’s Day. But hey, I don’t think anyone would object if I close myself in my room for a few hours after plucking the kids down in front of one of our beloved electronic devices: the television.
I wish everyone a Happy Mother’s Day, including my own mother, who is fabulous. She is a retired Colonel in the Air Force and worked her tail off. She showed me what a strong woman was. She has also taught me how to keep plants alive, though I will admit that I’m still not good at it. I try, Mom, I do try. PS. Next time you visit, do you want to make my front garden pretty? I’d do it but the bugs frighten me (much to your chagrin—my mom is a fan of most bugs) and quite frankly, pulling up weeds is not enjoyable at all. (Especially when there are spiders attached to it.)