IF you’re like many of us (cough”normal”cough) and don’t start planning in March (do not EVEN admit if you do), then the title of this blog has you asking,
“Wait! What day is it, this year?”
Overachievers, step aside.
This one’s for the well-intentioned lot of us that get laughed at when we try to book brunch reservations for “tomorrow.”
Tomorrow is not a thing this weekend.
Now is not the time for “ hug coupons” (seriously, NO.)
Time to whip out a game-changer that requires less than 36 hours to put together.
And lets her know she is ROYALTY.
My gift to you—and all mother’s out there—to save Sunday!!
How old are you?
36? 54? Take the number of years she’s been your mom and get that many...scratch off cards? Flowers? Random cookies on a tray? A cake with the number in icing? A list of that many reasons you love her? Use the number. It suggests forethought, and a deep, undying respect for those years. Which is true! Or not. Not the point.
Just display in a fun manner and run with it.
2. Cook.
For the love of Mary, buy the groceries, grab some wine, and cook a dinner. Then do the dang dishes. The catch? It has to be something SHE loves. I make meatloaf, or taco salad. They are just so YUMMY.
So, not YOUR favorite. Hers. (It is not Me Day.)
3. Lastly
and this one for the big spenders (or the most desperate to not tick off Mamma Bear) - plan a getaway weekend. Last-minute doesn’t matter, because it’s for like, May! Or June! Maybe with Pops, maybe with you, maybe with one of her besties. An Airbnb in wine country. A weekend with a show downtown. A Marriott with a pool. Doesn’t matter. Won’t be cheap, but it’ll knock her socks off.
and she’ll have no clue you thought of it, well...today.
So, there you go. Use ‘em if you need ‘em.
One last trump card?
Pick out a poem that reminds you of her (you can literally Google “poems about moms”) and write it on a card.
I have given you powers, caterpillar. Now fly.
And to all the moms reading this-
You are superheroes. You are heaven-sent.
Your iced tea is somehow magical.
We learned to belly-laugh at movies by watching with you.
Your voice makes us feel both powerful and weakened.
You are the wind beneath our procrastinating wings.
