TODAY contributor Jordana Horn is a mother of six, but it's not exactly like "The Brady Bunch." Fittingly, she has six requests for them for this Mother's Day.
1. Please don’t make me remind you about Mother’s Day.
When I say ‘you,’ I mean either my husband, the love of my life, or any of the six kids. I remind you all about everything every day, ranging from social obligations to your need to take your allergy medication to the fact that the socks don’t actually pick themselves up off the floor.
Now that I think about it, actually, why am I surprised that I would have to remind you? Some of you sometimes need to be reminded to take lunch to school — and you have to bring your lunch to school EVERY DAY. Some of you have actually showed up at band practice without realizing that you didn’t bring an instrument until you sat down. In light of these salient facts — forgetting to make the bed being a daily occurrence, forgetting to shut the refrigerator behind you after you have taken out food, etc. — perhaps the inevitability of your forgetting the impending Mother’s Day is not so shocking.
Fine. I will remind you in the least passive-aggressive way I can. I will neither email you ads from local flower companies, nor put Post-It reminders in convenient locations like your face.
2. Please let me wake up once, in the morning, like a normal person.
I realize that technically this is the night BEFORE Mother’s Day, but I hope we have known each other long enough to not get tangled up in formalities. The night before Mother’s Day, PLEASE JUST CHILL.
Please do not wake me with a bloodcurdling scream at 3 am that sounds like you are being disemboweled (and then, when I run to your room faster than I have ever done anything in my life, tell me, “My socks came off while I was sleeping.”).
Please do not come into my room at 4:30 am, telling me, “My OK to Wake Up Alarm Clock isn’t green. It must be broken.”
Please refrain, just for one night, from getting any new teeth and/or illnesses, vomiting, bloody noses, anxiety attacks, nightmares, and/or freaking out about lost socks or other acts of God. JUST KEEP IT TOGETHER.
The night will end, as it always does. And when it does, I would like to wake up like normal people do — ideally without someone prying open my eyelids with little fingers, saying, “Do you want to build a snowmaaaaaaaaan?” I think you will all be pleasantly surprised, if not delighted, by how downright chipper I can be in the morning when none of these things occur.
3. I Would Also Like To Take A Shower. Uninterrupted And Alone.
Even if you have to tell me something. Even if it is as urgent as the fact that your favorite color has changed from pink to purple – or maybe purple AND blue. Yes, my loves, yes — even then.
4. I Would Prefer To Be Off Food Duty.
On this particular holiday, consider it a holiday for your gastrointestinal system, as for one day only, I want no responsibility for putting food before you to either eat or reject. For this one day, I do not care what you eat. If Daddy wants to make you ice cream covered toaster waffles, that is his prerogative. Your teeth cannot rot out of your head in one day. Please do not take that as a challenge.
I do not want to set the table, clean the table or prepare food for you. If you have complaints about the food you are served by Daddy (who once as a bachelor had the gas company call him to ask why his oven wasn’t turned on for a whole year), I would strongly prefer not to hear them. Perhaps you could whisper them in his ear. Or write him a note, those of you who are old enough to write. I want no part of this. It is one day. You will all survive. I have checked that there is no expired food in the refrigerator. Godspeed, John Glenn.
5. I Want A Day of Non-Violence.
From the moment I wake until the moment I go to sleep, please let there be a ceasefire, verbal and physical. Even if your brother is the most annoying human in the world, please refrain from either telling him so loudly or placing him in a Homeland-worthy chokehold. Even if your sister has the red headband that she PROMISED you that you could wear today and she says she CHANGED HER MIND and it ISN’T FAIR, do not pull her hair or grab the headband and snap it in half over your leg, leaving plastic bits all over the floor for the baby to find and choke on.
I realize it will be next to impossible to handle the veritable tsunami of emotions that can overcome a person when one party wants to watch "Peppa Pig" and the other wants "Mulan." You are going to have to keep it together. For me.
6. I Want To Be With You.
Please do not ship me off to some spa, sensory deprivation tank or other seemingly idyllic place. Do not ship me off anywhere. You are all the people who made me a mother. I want to spend this day with you. You are the best things that have ever happened to me — other than my own mother. I don’t want to go get a manicure/pedicure. I want to be with you guys. I mean, admittedly, I don’t want to feed you or listen to you fight – and I would prefer not to handle your feces or the aforementioned vomit or nosebleeds — but I do want to be with you. I am very lucky to be your mom, and want to spend this day devoted to motherhood with you guys.
Because I love you. In fact, I never really knew how many dimensions love could possibly have until you came into my life.
That being said, please feel free to send me away Monday to the relaxing location of your choice.
Jordana Horn was married, had two boys, divorced, then married again. Her second husband never had children, but they made up for that by having four little girls in five years, the youngest of whom turns one in June.