Happy Mother’s Day and Happy Buffet Day

There’s a buffet with my name on it today, and I plan to dive into it, given it’s Mother’s Day, a holiday where I’m entitled to abandon the stove, liberating myself from such an unforgiving kitchen appliance.

I have no grand delusions of myself when it comes to being a mother, but the holiday today being a license to eat out works just fine for me.

I envision today being a day of some leisure, Mother’s Day or not, one that, weather permitting, might include planting flowers or the indulgence of a run to get the old endorphins going.

And a little extra barn time would be welcomed, too, a chance to brush away more of Thunder’s winter coat and give him a little TLC since I sometimes think of him as another child. “Mommy’s here!” is how I announce my arrival when I head for his stall door and enjoy the sight of his head appearing and hear a little horse hello. He seems genuinely happy to see me, especially when I come bearing treats.

Later this evening, Better Half and I will sit down to watch one of the remaining episodes of “Game of Thrones,” an HBO series we came into late and played catch-up with some binge-watching during the dead of winter. Even so, we watch and wonder aloud, “Now which character is that again?”

I’m sure today will bring visits, calls and presents, even though I dismiss the need for them — unless you must, of course, I tease would-be gift-bearers. Better Half always issues his annual reminder that he’s not getting me a present for Mother’s Day because I’m not his mother, which is fine, provided I’m acknowledged on Husband Administrative Assistant Day.

I don’t think my son and daughter should be bowing down to me today. Maybe it should be the other way around, that I should thank them for their patience with me, apologize for all the meals I didn’t cook, the parenting books I fell asleep reading, the times I haven’t listened as intently as I probably should have.

Many times I have been most unworthy of the Mother of the Year Award, certainly not when my son was in the first grade, not feeling well, but I insisted we go trick-or-treating in the rain anyway. Hey, it was Halloween! Turns out he had pneumonia. Ladies and gentlemen, there’s no Hallmark card for that.

Better Half and I don’t recall the let’s-have-kids conversation but at some point we obviously had it. Ditto for my parents, who after having had my two older sisters and two older brothers conspired to see if they could get it right the fifth time around, so I joke.

The jury is still out on that one.

All I know for sure about motherhood is that I’ve persevered and that I burst with pride at my son and daughter, seeing that they have thrived, that they are blooming where they’re planted.

That is cause to celebrate and put a hurting on a buffet with my name on it!

Happy Buffet Day and Happy Mother’s Day!

(Kiaski, a resident of Richmond, is a staff columnist and community editor for the Herald-Star and The Weirton Daily Times. She can be contacted at jkiaski@heraldstaronline.com.)

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