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My Favorite Mother’s Day memory? Maybe not when I got a black t-shirt for a push present.

    This post is sponsored by Luvs as part of their #ShareTheLuv campaign

    When Husband and I set our wedding date for May 30th, my boss at the time, Ellen,  joked “You didn’t plan that very well, Ann. Your birthday, Mother’s Day and your wedding anniversary all in the same month?!?” Already a mom herself, Ellen knew something I didn’t–that my days were numbered of ME serving as the central focus from which all holiday centrifugal force emanated. At that point in my life, Mother’s Day didn’t move the needle much for me on the holiday Richter scale, whereas my birthday counted as a major seismic event/national holiday/code red MANDATORY AWESOMENESS REQUIRED.

    Five years later, Husband and I crash-landed at our first Mother’s Day 10 weeks postpartum yet, somehow, 10 billion hours self/sleep-deprived. That particular Mother’s Day also brought my 30th birthday (no pressure). My big round number birthday only magnified my visions of a sparkly unforgettable gift, and set my pushed-a-baby-out present hopes three decades high. Husband had a push-present vision all his own–a vision of pushing through his bone-deep exhaustion to make it to some store any store Dear God I need to hand a substantive material expression of several momentous occasions all at once to my frazzled wife.

    And so, on that 30th birthday/Very first Mother’s Day/Wedding anniversary looming on the horizon day, Husband presented me with… a wrapped box. Clearly a shirt box; this box was fit for a nightgown, twin set, or other matronly item on the Never Give Your Wife Any Day But Especially Not Today Registry. I prayed a small maybe it’s something sentimental prayer and opened the box to reveal…a black…short-sleeved..T-shirt.

    A BLACK TEE SHIRT.

    Yet, it wasn’t merely a black T-shirt, for it had accoutrements. If you’re grinning from ear-to-ear and thinking what a clever new dad, he probably put some diamond studs in that T-shirt, you’d be almost right! For on that T-shirt lay three buttons at the v-neck. This was no black tee you find shrink-wrapped in a three-pack, it was a ladies tee! With three buttons at the neck!! Obviously those three buttons elevated it to gift-level “unlikely recipient will cry and/or fly off the handle.”

    I cried. I flew off the handle. I still cringe at the memory.

    In fairness, well, he did sorta bungle that gift. I still don’t know what he was thinking except perhaps something like complete paralysis over pleasing me, combined with the knowledge he needed to shop quickly to get home and help with the baby. Maybe also a subliminal twinge of mourning clothes– a homage to our dashed dual income no kid life. Poor sweet man. He had given me so many thoughtful, beautiful, and yes even sparkly gifts before and after that Mother’s Day–especially the ones I’d wanted all my life; my babies.

    While this Mother’s Day memory might not be my favorite (I think that might be the one where he had our kindergartner and toddler run into the bedroom to wake me up wielding long-stemmed roses as swords) it’s one I recall with laughter and fondness, nostalgia and sheepishness. Then I marvel at my gratitude for Husband, for our family, and for how far we’ve come together as team. Wearing his and hers black T-shirts, of course.

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    Use the hashtag #ShareTheLuv to share your favorite Mother’s Day memories, and check out some funny sweet remembrances from a few of our local LTYM director/producers. Luvs serves as a North American sponsor for Listen To Your Mother, and we thank them for their continued support of creative online women, parents and dry babies everywhere!

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    5 thoughts on “My Favorite Mother’s Day memory? Maybe not when I got a black t-shirt for a push present.”

    1. Oh, I loved this, Ann! Because I can totally relate. In life-readiness high school courses, should guys be required to understand gift-giving to various people? Perhaps. XOXO

    2. Pingback: Happy Mother's Day Memories, From Listen To Your Mother - Listen To Your Mother

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