Little girls dream about the day they get to actually be the mom on Mother’s Day, right? Laying in bed all day, having their ten homeschooled children serve them homemade bonbons while their husband rubs their feet?
I never dreamed of Mother’s Day. Or ten kids. (Or kids at all, for that matter!) And I definitely never dreamed of being a single mom.
Yesterday was the first Mother’s Day I have spent alone with my son, and it was possibly the most satisfying day I have spent with him. Like, ever.
Our adventures weren’t extravagant, but they were perfect.
Brock planned the day; our schedule started with a riveting game of checkers. At 6am. The game was followed by a trip to Trader Joe’s, our local grocery store, because, according to my very logical 5-year-old, “that’s what moms love to do!”
Brock and I ended up spending the rest of our day sharing:
- We shared the city of Chicago, our favorite place to adventure close to home.
- We shared the sunshine, laying in the grass at Lincoln Park.
- We shared our lunch with a homeless man, Willy, who in turn shared stories of his mom with us.
- We shared our favorite cupcakes, Sprinkles (or at least what was left of them after squishing them to get the gooey marshmallow treasure out of the middle first).
- We shared a lot of laughs.
I was tempted to plan a day full of distractions, and try to forget that I was spending my Mother’s Day as a single mom. I’m glad I decided to let B make the plans. I could never have planned for the satisfaction I had laying in the grass laughing with him about the adventures we get to have together every day.
I guarantee you that I will choose the stories of Willy’s mom and grass stains over bonbons and breakfast in bed every Mother’s Day from here on out.