Yesterday was only my second Mother's Day, so since Emily is only 14 months old I am letting her off the hook for not making me breakfast in bed and doing all of the laundry that needed to be done.
Denny though? Is not off the hook.
Ok, so yesterday morning he did a wonderful thing and took care of Emily while I slept in until 9:30. (Also: Who ever thought it was a good idea to celebrate Mother's Day on a Sunday, a day when a most people get up early to go to church? Why not Saturday when I could have slept as long as I wanted to? Because believe me, 9:30 was not nearly late enough.)
But after that, he was kinda like, ok, I let you sleep late, Happy Mother's Day to you and don't expect anything else because that's all I got. (I did however get a movie and a super awesome card).
All I wanted to do yesterday was work on a (super secret) project of mine that I started on Friday. I am so close to finishing and I only needed one little thing to finish but Denny didn't want to stop at Walmart after church because people were waiting on us. And oh my goodness we can not let people wait for 5 minutes because that would just be terrible.
What were they waiting on? My food. Yes, I had to cook for 14 people on Mother's Day. Because my husband didn't get the memo that it was MOTHER'S DAY and I was not supposed to be cooking. HE was supposed to be cooking, duh. But I am pretty sure that his family did not care to eat burnt grilled cheese sandwiches or boiled hot dogs and so I am the one who did the cooking.
We then preceeded to stay at his parents' house almost all day long so I didn't get a chance to hang out with my mom (sorry mom, maybe next year you will be celebrated properly) and my argument that I am not the most important mother in my husband's life was further proven correct.
When we finally got home, I asked Denny to help me cut a piece of wood. One piece of wood. Two cuts. It would have taken 5 minutes, tops. He responded by basically ignoring me and falling asleep on the couch a few minutes later. I shut myself up in the office while Emily napped and looked at fabric on Etsy which gave me baby fever even worse because OMG it is all so cute. When I finally came out, Denny was outside washing his truck and not cutting my piece of wood and I was not amused.
To top it all off, he was in a less than pleasant mood all day long and at that point I had had enough and I told him exactly what I thought of himself. He didn't cut the wood after that, but he did cut some plexiglass for me. Making Denny feel like crap gets things done for me, so I don't really feel bad for making him feel bad.
It was hopefully the worst Mother's Day that I will ever have. It can't get worse, can it?
On a related note, I cannot wait for Father's Day.