Thursday, May 5, 2011

Feliz Dia de Las Madres

While I was looking for a Mother's Day card for my mother-in-law today, I saw one that said, "You're not my mom, you're my wife." I didn't read the inside, but I thought it could aptly say, "So why are you the one buying my mom a Mother's Day card?"

Tomorrow is Liliana's ballet recital. I was going to buy tickets for it tonight. I called Edgar to see if he thought his mom would like to come with us. Now, since we're going to town anyway, we had thought Edgar would take me to dinner for Mother's Day--his idea :). Well, I called Edgar.

"Do you think your mom would like to go with us tomorrow?"

"Oh yeah. I think she really would. Is that okay with you?"

"Yeah." Why wouldn't it be? "It might be long. There will be a lot of little girls dancing to a lot of little songs."

"Oh." He wasn't sure if he should go on. "I thought you wanted my mom to come to dinner with us."

"Oh. Um. No. Do you want her to?"

He knew it was a loaded question. "Well, I know she would like to."

What could I say? A date with my husband and mother-in-law isn't quite the Mother's Day gift I was envisioning. A date with my husband who wanted his mom to be there too wasn't really what I had in mind either.

We were planning to have someone in Edgar's family babysit for us while we went on the date. It turns out they're mostly busy getting ready for a niece and nephew's First Communion on Saturday and our last-minute plea for a babysitter is ill-timed.

"We could ask my mom to babysit," he offered. He hadn't asked her out yet. "We'd have to bring Ammon with us."

Edgar's mom has a bad back and can't lift our overly-chubby (though adorable) baby. I've been on "dates" before with a baby. We take turns walking around and dancing with the baby and eating our food--cold. We don't get a chance to talk much or hold hands or anything. It's almost as fun as dating a mother-in-law.

In a moment of generosity, I said, "You know. It is Mother's Day. Why don't you take your mom to dinner and I'll take the kids to McDonald's and Wal-mart?" I know, either one would be bad enough, but I'm looking for martyr status here, so I threw both of them in.

He was smart enough to put up a fight and say he had wanted to take me. I made him promise to take me another time and he finally called his mom and acted like his plan all along was for just the two of them to enjoy a Mother's Day meal. He gave me a big hug and said, "She sounds really excited."

Ruben, who has been begging to go to Wal-mart (we don't get out much) gave me one of his big hugs and said, "I love you, Mom!"

As I looked at his dirty little glasses, his hair stiff with dried sweat, and his sunburned cheeks, I wondered what kind of woman would someday snatch him from me. I hope she's the kind of girl that will let him take me to dinner for Mother's Day--especially if I'm alone like Edgar's mom. Tonight I feel generous. I might not even file this experience away to bring up in the future when it could be advantageous . . . Time will tell. In the meantime, I'll remind myself that my dear mother-in-law has still cooked and washed socks for my husband for twice as long as I have. Happy Mother's Day!