These past few weeks have been a barrage of branded emails and invasive social media ads about all the terrific things I need for Mother’s day — a craft kit for my child to make something for me (i.e., a bunch of stuff for me to have to clean up and/or throw away), an ugly necklace with the names of all my kids on it (something for me to never wear), a mug with some pithy expression about wine, moms, or coffee on it, and the like. But I never see things that I’d truly like for Mother’s Day. Read on to see if the things I truly want for Mother’s Day are also the things you truly want for Mother’s Day. If so, forward this article to your significant other, and cross your fingers until they turn purple — maybe we’ll get what we really want!
Peace and Quiet
If your house is like my house, there is always noise emanating from myriad devices and appliances. The dishwasher is always churning, the TV is always on, somewhere in the distance a coffee maker percolates, a radio plays worn-out songs faintly, and maybe if I’m lucky a vacuum is running and I’m not the one pushing it. A cat is meowing for food, a child is requesting a drink, a partner is listening to a podcast. There is so much regular and constant sound pollution in my own home, I have almost forgotten what it’s like to have the house be quiet. Even when I wake in the still of the night, the sound machine is whirring, a fan is blowing, an errant dog is barking from the house nearby, cars come and go at all hours at neighboring homes.
So what I’d love this Mother’s Day is a silent home — a solid, dedicated window of, say, four hours of pin-drop, eerie, horror-movie-level quiet. I’d like to yell out, “Hello, does anyone need a snack?” and be met with the reply of the four walls, enveloping me with utter soundlessness. If I could get it gift wrapped, that’d be even better!
Price: Priceless
For the House to Clean Itself
You may be saying, “So, what you mean is, you’d like a cleaning service for a day,” and you’d be wrong. No! I don’t want anyone to come into my home, scrub my stuff, see my embarrassingly bad habits and lack of cleaning skills, note what a terrible designer I am, help themselves to my home’s ambiance, or remind me of my laziness/exhaustion with their very presence. I want a George Jetson-esque house that whirs and vibrates with self-cleaning measures.
A dishwasher and washing machine are good starts; a Roomba also fits into the mix, all right. But what about a self-making bed? A shower that de-mildews itself? A floor that, before I go to bed, I can set to “clean mode” and awake to fresh and shiny tiles and wood sparkling across my kitchen and living room? Wouldn’t that be something? Oh, and one more thing: I’d like these services and devices to be affordable.
Price: $75 for a lifetime supply
To Sleep Uninterrupted
I don’t know about you, but ever since my son hit the scene, sleep is a hot commodity around my house. It’s just not a priority for him, and has never been since day one, much to my massive chagrin. He used to wake at 5 a.m., and then it inched closer to 6 a.m.; now that he’s 5 years old, it seems to be moving towards 7 a.m. At this rate, maybe I’ll get to sleep in until 9 a.m. one Saturday, some 700-plus days away from now.
When I sleep, sometimes I dream I’m sleeping. I dream I’m cozy in my bed and there are no children climbing on top of me in the peak, darkest hours of the night, whimpering that they have to pee or need a drink of water. Sometimes, when I’ve made the mistake of complaining about this to other parents, they chuckle and say, “One day, they won’t even want to talk to you, and you’ll wish they were 5 again, climbing into your bed to cuddle.” To them I say, when that happens I’ll complain about that. But right now, just for one day, say, May 8, what I’d really love is to sleep until 10 a.m. with absolutely zero disturbances. It seems almost somehow attainable, yet still so far away. Maybe this hot item will be available for Mother’s Day 2024.
Price: I’d pay a lot for this
To Pee Alone
OK, OK, I’ve peed alone a handful of times since my child was born. It happens more and more lately. But there’s almost always some interruption — a knock on the door or a jiggle of the doorknob, followed by a request for a snack, a book, a pair of flip-flops, a favorite misplaced train. The timing is impeccable — usually midstream, at the moment where I can very mostly do absolutely nothing to help. All of a sudden, a tiny voice hollers, “Moooom! I need a cup of water for my paint brush!” or “Mooom! Can you play Monopoly with me?” Both of these requests are perfectly reasonable, but why can they never wait until after I’m done doing my business? If “To Pee Alone” is really too much to ask, I’d also take, “To Complete a Phone Call Without One Request or Interruption,” but that might be pushing it. I've heard that one sells out pretty fast.
Price: Whatever it costs
Did I miss the gift you’d like most on your Mother’s Day wish list? If so, post it in the comments. Maybe some big advertiser will see your idea and make it a tangible item. Wouldn’t that be something? More likely, it’ll just end up plastered onto a coffee mug.
But hey, it’s a start.
