Can Mother’s Day Be Fun?

Breakfast is the best meal of the day. I would eat breakfast food at every meal (and occasionally do). Of course, on special days, I want a special breakfast. There should be sugar. There should be carbs. I want something Buddy the Elf would whip up for Jovie.

So there I was, May of 2020, knowing that Mother’s Day was approaching. I had been in lockdown for nearly two months with two toddlers. There would be no Mother’s Day brunch at a restaurant. We likely wouldn’t even be leaving the house. But for Mother’s Day, I wanted French toast casserole. And I was determined to have it but unwilling to ask my husband to make it for me, probably because he hadn’t read my mind and offered to do it for me already.

No problem. At this point, my toddlers had already done a fair amount of “helping” in the kitchen. We would do it together! I would be a great mom! Mother’s Day breakfast would feature a shining example of my self-sacrifice and love of spending time with my girls!

I dressed them in matching aprons, hoisted them onto the counter, and placed a glass casserole dish between them. I gave them strict instructions to ensure that neither they nor the dish ended up on the floor. I moved the knife block out of reach. I tore a loaf of bread in half and showed them how to rip it in pieces and place the pieces in the dish. Confident they understood, I busied myself with cracking eggs and measuring milk and cream.

They understood all right. I saw pieces of bread filling the dish and continued with my tasks. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I spied something. I had handed my daughters chunks of delicious carbohydrates, and they’d added a step to the process: Rip a piece off the loaf, take a bite, then place the remainder in the dish.

I might have cried. After weeks of fear and uncertainty, trying to juggle the demands of work and toddlerhood and a global pandemic, knowing my Mother’s Day breakfast was full of germs felt like the last straw. It felt symbolic of how much motherhood was taking from me in those days: Even the small thing I tried to do for myself was co-opted by the kids.

Now, you better believe I threw that thing in a 350 degree oven and trusted that the germs died a painful death. But I still felt sorry for myself on Mother’s Day morning. And that wasn’t the only time Mother’s Day failed to live up to my expectations.

Fast forward five years. Yesterday, we did not have a fancy brunch. The Birkin bag I’ve been joking about with my husband certainly didn’t materialize. I even made French toast casserole with a toddler again on Mother’s Day itself. But it was a fun day, thanks to some lessons I’ve learned along the way.

Don’t View Mother’s Day as a Reflection of Your Motherhood

For years, I believed deep down that what my family chose to do for me for Mother’s Day was a reflection of how good a mom I was. When Mother’s Day felt…simple…I would vow to try harder for the next year. This was unfair to me and to them. And it simply wasn’t true. After all, I think my husband is a top-tier dad. But Father’s Day is usually, well, simple. Pulling off something elaborate for Father’s Day feels like a lot of pressure, and how we spend the day isn’t a reflection on how the kids or I view him as a dad. Realizing that the same was true for me made it better for everyone.

Ask for What You Want

The French toast casserole incident is mostly funny to me now. And when I let my toddler help me yesterday, I gave better instructions about where the bread should and should not go. But the whole issue could have been avoided in 2020 if I’d simply asked my husband to make the casserole for me. I guarantee he would have been happy to. Without toddler sous-chefs, it takes about 15 minutes to whip up. He’s perfectly capable of following a recipe. He says it’s like doing LEGO.

Yesterday, I asked for what I wanted. I wanted to get ice cream. After that, I wanted my husband to stay with the toddler while he finished his “banilla” so I could walk down to the fancy oil and vinegar store with the girls. I wanted to get my workout done in the afternoon so I could relax after the kids went to bed. I wanted to order dinner. Sometimes, I think I just don’t want to make decisions. And decision fatigue is real. But offloading the decision-making is usually a recipe for disappointment because deep down I do know what I want. I just have to say it.

Don’t Treat Mother’s Day Like Your Only Chance to Have Fun

My birthday generally falls about four weeks before Mother’s Day. For years, it felt like a concentrated time of the year where I would get a few days to do what I wanted. And then when Mother’s Day was over, I would have a long slog of 11 months to get through before I could have another “me” day.

Now, the toddler season can be grueling. I did it back to back, and I’m in it again. But this year, I realized that there was very little stopping me from incorporating some of the fun I had on my birthday into my everyday life (see: Marvelous Mrs. Maisel Mondays). My birthday and Mother’s Day certainly don’t have to be the only days I get to do what I want to do.

So yesterday, for breakfast, I finished off the poppyseed bread I’d made for the kids last week. Then, I made French toast casserole to have on Monday morning instead. One of the bread bandits from 2020 is now actually pretty competent in the kitchen, so I recruited her to help and enjoyed the time with her. I blocked off an hour in my calendar for Maisel on Monday instead of telling myself Sunday was my only chance to watch it. I was excited that the gift my husband got me was a pre-ordered LEGO set. I’ll get to look forward to the fun of putting it together next month! And I said yes when my daughter wanted to color with me because I knew I could finish the fun (yes, I said it) weekly planning I was doing another time if I needed to. After all, Mother’s Day is also about the people who made me a mother.

Oh—and I got a phone call from a friend (hi, Bekah!) reminding me that we need to do brunch soon. We don’t have to wait until my birthday comes around again. After all, it’s the best meal of the day.