No breakfast in MY bed...

In no particular order here are what we think are the top five things given or done on Mother's Day: homemade card, bouquet of flowers, spa/pedicure type thing, other gift certificate (because your spouse couldn't think of what else to get and panicked on Saturday afternoon at 4), or breakfast in bed.  I'm thinking this last one has the tendency to ride the top of the list most often.  Raise your hand if you got breakfast in bed yesterday.  Ok, now raise your hand if you actually enjoyed said breakfast in bed....

I am ashamed.  I am a horrible mother.  My children should be taken from me.  I do not deserve to have them, their precious little faces looking up at me, their darling little hearts wanting to do wonderful things for me on Mother's day.  I knew on Saturday we had shit for food in the house, we had about a tablespoon of milk, the butt of crusts for bread, a quarter cup of stale cereal, and maybe one or two eggs that may or may not have been around when I made breakfast on Easter morning...I needed to go to the store.  I also knew my oldest had visions of grandeur in her little head for breakfast in bed for me on Sunday morning.  So I did what any mother would do.  I bailed.  I chickened out.  I hightailed it out of bed on Sunday morning before anyone else got up and was strolling the aisles of super Walmart with my Starbucks perusing the cereal aisle like I didn't have a care in the world.  I abandoned my child and dashed her hopes of presenting me with the pinnacle of the Mother's Day gift.  But I hate breakfast in bed so I went to Walmart instead (and anyone who knows me knows I detest Walmart).

But I just really don't enjoy breakfast in bed...for a variety of reasons:

1. I'm SO not a breakfast person. Never have been, the mere idea of food in the morning makes me nauseated.  I need to be awake for several hours before I can even think about eating without wanting to vomit.  So barely brushing off the fog of sleep to the sight of my children with a tray laden with food and NOT throwing up all over them?  Yeah, not happening...

2.  No one else in my house can cook.  Not even kidding.  When I jokingly asked my husband what he was making me for Mother's Day dinner last night, he looked at me and said "cinnamon toast?" but even that made him nervous.  If other people enter my kitchen it ends up looking like a war zone, don't ask about the pancake incident of 2005...I'm still pissed about my Emeril pan.

3. It's plain awkward.  Who wants to sit there and eat while four other people sit there smiling and staring at you?  It's like being a friggin caged zoo animal at feeding time.  Not to mention I'm still trying to avoid vomiting everywhere so please stop looking at me because I REALLY REALLY REALLY don't want to try whatever it is that is piled next to whatever this stuff is on top of what I think is supposed to be toast.

4.  There are five people on my bed.  Moving around.  Jostling everywhere.  Climbing all over me.  Wanting me to eat.  Try it mom!  Spilling orange juice.  Spreading crumbs. Are you going to take a bite? Dropping bits of mystery food. GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So if you DID get breakfast in bed, I hope you were able to enjoy it...alone.  I hope you were able to identify what you were fed.  I am just not that girl.  I prefer to be the one who prepares the meals (this is where I let the kids help me so it softens the blow of them not doing it themselves...see?  I still get to have control...) and I prefer that said meals NOT be served in my bed.  After all, I'd hate for the kids to find any stray rhinestones laying around ;)

Hope you all had a wonderful Mother's Day!