Speaking for myself, and my kids have heard some of this before…

I don’t need a Hallmark card on Mother’s Day.

I don’t need a mug that says “Mother.” I don’t need any thing at all. You don’t even have to buy me flowers.

On Mother’s Day, I’d like your time, your love, and your cheerful participation.

I’d like to sleep in

I’d like to sleep in, on Mother’s Day, until I wake up with a yawn and a smile and no alarm clock—digital or demanding human—in sight.

Then, when you’ve heard sounds of my stirring, I’d like my two favorite kids in the history of the universe to come joyfully in and jump in my bed with hugs and kisses like I got when you were toddlers and I was the center of your world.

No one’s too old to kiss his mom on Mother’s Day.

I’d like someone else to cook & clean

I’d like someone else to cook breakfast, but I don’t care if its fancy. I want the dirty dishes to disappear without my saying a word. In fact, I’d like to find the kitchen clean at the end of the day, even especially if I never set foot in the room.

A running dishwasher without prompting is like a love song to me on Mother’s Day.

I’d like to spend time with you

On Mother’s Day, I propose we build a jigsaw puzzle with nary an eye roll and no suggestion that a video game would be more fun. I like playing Ages of Empires with you, or The Sims, but I enjoy building things more.

If you bought me a gift over my protestations, I hope its a 1000+ piece puzzle with an image you like, too. Or maybe a Lego City set—one of the modular town buildings that I love. We could spend a whole day assembling and playing with that.

If there’s a gift, I hope you bought it with the intention that we would enjoy it together.

Show me your best self

Order takeout or pizza for dinner, if you don’t want to cook again. I don’t mind; I just like to be fed.

Show me your consideration by remembering what I like, or use that excellent brain to observe that I’ve marked up all the menus with everyone’s usual order. That’s how I make sure your favorite dish is never forgotten.

If you looked, you’d find my cookbooks full of similar notes, too. Who likes what? How must I challenge Betty Crocker so you like a recipe better? Have you ever noticed that this is just another little way that I take care of you every day?

Serve the food on plates, not from the boxes. Remember to put napkins on the table without being reminded that we’re civilized. Ask me if I’d like a glass of water instead of asking me to get one for you. Bring silverware for everyone, even your brother.

Use your very best, cruise ship manners.

Tell me, show me, acknowledge me

Tell me you love me. Show me you love me. Today is the day to acknowledge my boundless love for you.

That’s what I’d like for Mother’s Day.

How will you celebrate Mom on Sunday, May 14?