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As part of their responsibility to the global community, Johnson’s has hand-selected dozens of charities around the world that mirror their deep commitment to caring for the health and well-being of mothers and children – not just on Mother’s Day, but every day of the year.
This is the 100th Anniversary of Mother’s Day and my 15th year of raising kids — not to mention, killer dust bunnies — in this mother-loving world of comfortable running shoes and matching hoodies.
So, as a mother of a teen, a tween, a precocious 1st grader and The Boy who refuses to admit he is NOT getting a brother for Christmas, what could I possibly want for Mother’s Day?
To be a man.
[rolls eyes]
No, wait.
Look, I know we’re different – men are from Mars and women are weird, or something – in fact, I was raised in a European household, with strict boundaries on gender roles, which left very little room for confusion (let alone, anything else in a 5 room house) I knew exactly what was expected of me, as a female.
Not much.
I know that my mother and father loved me (still do) and, if they were reading this, it would probably be very hard for them to understand how I could even feel that way. Because, raising their family has always been (and still is) priority number one.
That’s the rub.
They never (or, very rarely) took time for themselves (away from us kids) and perhaps do the things that, you know, they just NEVER would have done, in the old country. I don’t ever remember my mother being invited to a girls’ night out, or (heaven forbid) asking my father to make dinner, so that she could attend a PTA meeting, or join a book club.
It’s not that my father wouldn’t allow her to – even though, he probably would have thought it was weird – the thought of doing something, after work, that didn’t involve cleaning, cooking, or getting ready for the next work day never entered their minds and they just didn’t do that sort of thing.
Not in my house.
I’ve often said to, well, anyone who is silly enough to hang around long enough to listen (thank you, your check is in the mail) I would make one mother of a husband!
[hocks a goober and hogs remote]
"Can I get you anything?"
[scratches]
"Naw, I’m good – gonna head out to hammer up a couple of loose boards on the house."
[lip quivers]
"What’d I say?"
[starts to turn and walks out]
"I like to feel needed, too, you know."
Oh, poor Garth (not his real name) I know – though, he really doesn’t sound (or, isn’t) that needy – my husband knows that I’m not very good at asking for help. Ever. Besides, I like doing things. Manly-type-hammering-and-drilling-sort-of-things. And I couldn’t do half the stuff that I do…um…do, if it weren’t for his calm, cool, collected and accepting nature.
Total opposites really do attract.
So, this Mother’s Day I would like to acknowledge my husband. Because the man can (and has) stepped into Mommy’s shoes at a moment’s notice AND is still able to keep his manhood intact.
Happy Mother’s Day, Hon!
[big wet kiss]
You ARE one mother of a hubby.
[raises eyebrow]
Oh, and don’t worry about your bank keys…that you forgot on your dresser…AGAIN. You see, I know that you were very distracted with making the kids’ lunches this morning and running late. So, I’m headed out…right now…to bring them to you and will even buy you lunch.
After I shave my legs and dress into something really pretty, of course!
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Comments
32 responses to “PBN Blog Blast: All I want for Mother’s Day”
Ah, I have often said that what I really, really want to find under the Christmas tree is a wife. Circa 1952. Pompom festooned apron, pearls a la June Cleaver, dirty martini in hand (extra olives), clean house, quiet children.
Am I dreaming?
Sure, being a man would be great when it comes to peeing in public places. Or when it comes to getting my boys to straighten up. Somehow the words that I mocked as a child, “Just wait until your father gets home!” oddly dribble through my lips now. I suppose being emboldened by the X AND Y has its privileges.
Ah, I have often said that what I really, really want to find under the Christmas tree is a wife. Circa 1952. Pompom festooned apron, pearls a la June Cleaver, dirty martini in hand (extra olives), clean house, quiet children.
Am I dreaming?
Sure, being a man would be great when it comes to peeing in public places. Or when it comes to getting my boys to straighten up. Somehow the words that I mocked as a child, “Just wait until your father gets home!” oddly dribble through my lips now. I suppose being emboldened by the X AND Y has its privileges.
Ah, I have often said that what I really, really want to find under the Christmas tree is a wife. Circa 1952. Pompom festooned apron, pearls a la June Cleaver, dirty martini in hand (extra olives), clean house, quiet children.
Am I dreaming?
Sure, being a man would be great when it comes to peeing in public places. Or when it comes to getting my boys to straighten up. Somehow the words that I mocked as a child, “Just wait until your father gets home!” oddly dribble through my lips now. I suppose being emboldened by the X AND Y has its privileges.
Ah, I have often said that what I really, really want to find under the Christmas tree is a wife. Circa 1952. Pompom festooned apron, pearls a la June Cleaver, dirty martini in hand (extra olives), clean house, quiet children.
Am I dreaming?
Sure, being a man would be great when it comes to peeing in public places. Or when it comes to getting my boys to straighten up. Somehow the words that I mocked as a child, “Just wait until your father gets home!” oddly dribble through my lips now. I suppose being emboldened by the X AND Y has its privileges.
Dearest ilinap,
I’ve had that same dream, too.
Then, I woke up.
Oddly, my mother and I have switched traditional roles. She worked 2 (sometimes 3) jobs, while I stay home to take care of kids and stuff.
Weird.
So, I guess what I’m saying is…feh…Mother’s Day really doesn’t matter that much, anymore…to me, anyway.
Who’s to say we should be treated better, than any other day?
Besides, I already have a wife.
Aaaad Garth (not his real name) makes a mean Mojito!
Dearest ilinap,
I’ve had that same dream, too.
Then, I woke up.
Oddly, my mother and I have switched traditional roles. She worked 2 (sometimes 3) jobs, while I stay home to take care of kids and stuff.
Weird.
So, I guess what I’m saying is…feh…Mother’s Day really doesn’t matter that much, anymore…to me, anyway.
Who’s to say we should be treated better, than any other day?
Besides, I already have a wife.
Aaaad Garth (not his real name) makes a mean Mojito!
Dearest ilinap,
I’ve had that same dream, too.
Then, I woke up.
Oddly, my mother and I have switched traditional roles. She worked 2 (sometimes 3) jobs, while I stay home to take care of kids and stuff.
Weird.
So, I guess what I’m saying is…feh…Mother’s Day really doesn’t matter that much, anymore…to me, anyway.
Who’s to say we should be treated better, than any other day?
Besides, I already have a wife.
Aaaad Garth (not his real name) makes a mean Mojito!
Dearest ilinap,
I’ve had that same dream, too.
Then, I woke up.
Oddly, my mother and I have switched traditional roles. She worked 2 (sometimes 3) jobs, while I stay home to take care of kids and stuff.
Weird.
So, I guess what I’m saying is…feh…Mother’s Day really doesn’t matter that much, anymore…to me, anyway.
Who’s to say we should be treated better, than any other day?
Besides, I already have a wife.
Aaaad Garth (not his real name) makes a mean Mojito!
Ah, yes, to be a man. The things I’d be able to get away with! My parents are pretty “old school” as well and my dad never in his life ever changed a diaper, fed a baby, put a baby to sleep, cooked, cleaned… you get the picture. With a house full of women (his mom, my mom, myself and 2 other sisters) there were plenty around to do that for him. Even through the birth of two granddaughters, not much interaction until they were toddlers. BUT… once his first GRANDSON was born, totally hands-on! Now-a-days, he’s the primary caregiver for the kids twice a week. We thought we’d never see the day.
We really are fortunate that our husbands are so involved in the raising of our children in this day and age. Wait, was it Mother’s Day or Father’s Day that we were talking about?? Ah, no matter! Happy (early) Mother’s Day to you and Garth (not his real name)!
Ah, yes, to be a man. The things I’d be able to get away with! My parents are pretty “old school” as well and my dad never in his life ever changed a diaper, fed a baby, put a baby to sleep, cooked, cleaned… you get the picture. With a house full of women (his mom, my mom, myself and 2 other sisters) there were plenty around to do that for him. Even through the birth of two granddaughters, not much interaction until they were toddlers. BUT… once his first GRANDSON was born, totally hands-on! Now-a-days, he’s the primary caregiver for the kids twice a week. We thought we’d never see the day.
We really are fortunate that our husbands are so involved in the raising of our children in this day and age. Wait, was it Mother’s Day or Father’s Day that we were talking about?? Ah, no matter! Happy (early) Mother’s Day to you and Garth (not his real name)!
Ah, yes, to be a man. The things I’d be able to get away with! My parents are pretty “old school” as well and my dad never in his life ever changed a diaper, fed a baby, put a baby to sleep, cooked, cleaned… you get the picture. With a house full of women (his mom, my mom, myself and 2 other sisters) there were plenty around to do that for him. Even through the birth of two granddaughters, not much interaction until they were toddlers. BUT… once his first GRANDSON was born, totally hands-on! Now-a-days, he’s the primary caregiver for the kids twice a week. We thought we’d never see the day.
We really are fortunate that our husbands are so involved in the raising of our children in this day and age. Wait, was it Mother’s Day or Father’s Day that we were talking about?? Ah, no matter! Happy (early) Mother’s Day to you and Garth (not his real name)!
Ah, yes, to be a man. The things I’d be able to get away with! My parents are pretty “old school” as well and my dad never in his life ever changed a diaper, fed a baby, put a baby to sleep, cooked, cleaned… you get the picture. With a house full of women (his mom, my mom, myself and 2 other sisters) there were plenty around to do that for him. Even through the birth of two granddaughters, not much interaction until they were toddlers. BUT… once his first GRANDSON was born, totally hands-on! Now-a-days, he’s the primary caregiver for the kids twice a week. We thought we’d never see the day.
We really are fortunate that our husbands are so involved in the raising of our children in this day and age. Wait, was it Mother’s Day or Father’s Day that we were talking about?? Ah, no matter! Happy (early) Mother’s Day to you and Garth (not his real name)!
Funny you should tell me your story, SherE1.
My father never “did dirty diapers” either (though, he had no problem taking them to the laundromat for my mom) and would send the my kids to me, whenever the stink factor hit “PHEW!”
Then, one day while babysitting my youngest daughter (#4) during an emergency, he was forced to change her dirty diaper.
He was so proud of himself.
It was really funny, though, because my son (#3) refused to show him where the diapers were saying, “It’s mommy’s job to change the baby!”
Funny you should tell me your story, SherE1.
My father never “did dirty diapers” either (though, he had no problem taking them to the laundromat for my mom) and would send the my kids to me, whenever the stink factor hit “PHEW!”
Then, one day while babysitting my youngest daughter (#4) during an emergency, he was forced to change her dirty diaper.
He was so proud of himself.
It was really funny, though, because my son (#3) refused to show him where the diapers were saying, “It’s mommy’s job to change the baby!”
Funny you should tell me your story, SherE1.
My father never “did dirty diapers” either (though, he had no problem taking them to the laundromat for my mom) and would send the my kids to me, whenever the stink factor hit “PHEW!”
Then, one day while babysitting my youngest daughter (#4) during an emergency, he was forced to change her dirty diaper.
He was so proud of himself.
It was really funny, though, because my son (#3) refused to show him where the diapers were saying, “It’s mommy’s job to change the baby!”
Funny you should tell me your story, SherE1.
My father never “did dirty diapers” either (though, he had no problem taking them to the laundromat for my mom) and would send the my kids to me, whenever the stink factor hit “PHEW!”
Then, one day while babysitting my youngest daughter (#4) during an emergency, he was forced to change her dirty diaper.
He was so proud of himself.
It was really funny, though, because my son (#3) refused to show him where the diapers were saying, “It’s mommy’s job to change the baby!”
What are these killer dust bunnies you speak of? I didn’t find a single one when I stayed with y’all. And I looked. 😉
Hehe.
Johnson’s Baby Cause is great. Although I couldn’t afford to bid any higher on Elisabeth Hasselbeck’s gently used stroller system. 😉
What are these killer dust bunnies you speak of? I didn’t find a single one when I stayed with y’all. And I looked. 😉
Hehe.
Johnson’s Baby Cause is great. Although I couldn’t afford to bid any higher on Elisabeth Hasselbeck’s gently used stroller system. 😉
What are these killer dust bunnies you speak of? I didn’t find a single one when I stayed with y’all. And I looked. 😉
Hehe.
Johnson’s Baby Cause is great. Although I couldn’t afford to bid any higher on Elisabeth Hasselbeck’s gently used stroller system. 😉
What are these killer dust bunnies you speak of? I didn’t find a single one when I stayed with y’all. And I looked. 😉
Hehe.
Johnson’s Baby Cause is great. Although I couldn’t afford to bid any higher on Elisabeth Hasselbeck’s gently used stroller system. 😉
That’s too funny! Having never seen grandpa change a diaper before, I’m sure your son was pretty suspicious too! My Dad was also pretty dang proud of himself when he changed his first diaper. *giggle*
That’s too funny! Having never seen grandpa change a diaper before, I’m sure your son was pretty suspicious too! My Dad was also pretty dang proud of himself when he changed his first diaper. *giggle*
That’s too funny! Having never seen grandpa change a diaper before, I’m sure your son was pretty suspicious too! My Dad was also pretty dang proud of himself when he changed his first diaper. *giggle*
That’s too funny! Having never seen grandpa change a diaper before, I’m sure your son was pretty suspicious too! My Dad was also pretty dang proud of himself when he changed his first diaper. *giggle*
I’ve been thinking about the same thing.
I want to be a man.
Mostly, so I can take off or take a nap whenever I please, without having to make a million arrangements.
I’ve been thinking about the same thing.
I want to be a man.
Mostly, so I can take off or take a nap whenever I please, without having to make a million arrangements.
I’ve been thinking about the same thing.
I want to be a man.
Mostly, so I can take off or take a nap whenever I please, without having to make a million arrangements.
I’ve been thinking about the same thing.
I want to be a man.
Mostly, so I can take off or take a nap whenever I please, without having to make a million arrangements.
What a totally sweet tribute to your husband – in an odd kind of way. 🙂
What a totally sweet tribute to your husband – in an odd kind of way. 🙂
What a totally sweet tribute to your husband – in an odd kind of way. 🙂
What a totally sweet tribute to your husband – in an odd kind of way. 🙂