After being served breakfast in bed by the two youngest, we go for a family walk. The 19 year old is over the top with end of term exams and group projects as he wraps up his first year at BCIT. He barely notices me as he heads back for yet again another day on the campus to get it done. He has no time for a family walk. I am fortunate that he texts me from the campus to wish me a Happy Mother’s Day. I reiterated the family motto.
And then, I escape on the road bike to ride out to Fort Langley to the end of River Road. I wasn’t really gone that long. Honestly. I rode the bike for just over 60 minutes and came home to a super-big mess. The first thing I noticed was the tub of canola oil on the drive way surrounded by empty Alka-selszer wrappers and assorted kitchen items. “What happened here?” I asked the 11 year old. Of course, he is already on to the next best thing, “You know, we were blowing up stuff.”
He and his neighborhood buddies are too busy to explain more because they are preoccupied with getting golf balls to their designated holes. Yes, the front yard and every assorted item they could yank out of the garage has been converted into a mini-golf course. It covers the front yard and back. It includes holes made from play dough and empty flowerpots buried slightly into our flower garden.
I wasn’t sure about the crochet set. The 11 year old was waiting to mow the lawn and then was planning to set it up. Still, it was staggered across the front lawn. He assists in mowing the back lawn. They drag the crochet out to the back. I call out to the 16 year old, “Come and play crochet.” He laughs, shakes his head and replies, “I’ll pass. And mom, it’s not called crochet. It’s croquet!” His dad explains the rules to the 11 year old. They play a bit. Then his dad explains the concept of poison. And gets him. Game over. My child is clearly not impressed with the rules of the game.
I cut the 16 year old’s hair. I cut the 11 year old’s hair. It is Mother’s Day and they want their hair cut. I threaten the 11 year old with the Mother’s Day special: a Mohawk. He gets excited. He wants it. I do it (the hair cut, not the Mohawk). I always cut their hair. And it shows. Clearly, I am not a hairstylist. But get this, they are happy. That’s what matters.
Why the rocks and the planks were hiding the cul-de-sac drain, I don’t know. I don’t know about the water guns either but the 8 year old changes his soaking wet clothes and retreats into the house. He is drawing pictures. He has been preparing for an art sale for several weeks. (I don’t know–where does all this come from?). He wants to make copies and sell them. He has over 42 originals tucked in his folder. We discuss the concept of originals and reprints so he knows that originals are much more valuable. He draws most of the afternoon. I go and lift weights. I come home and he has now decided to broker a deal. It is Mother’s Day. He will let me buy all his drawings for $40.00 but because it is Mother’s Day I can have 25% off. The deal expires today.
I feel some pressure. We talk more, he draws more, we negotiate, and we discuss the deal with his dad. We talk about 50% off and then he comes up with a creative solution: I can have all the drawings (there are now 57) for $10.00, which is 75% off, provided I take him to Toys-R-Us within the next 5 days to spend his money. I explain to him that in order to close the sale he will have to do portraits for each member of the family (all 6 of us). He suggests instead that he draw portraits that have half of each members face on them. Then he only needs to draw three portraits. He draws half of my face and half of my husband’s as a portrait. I agree and the deal is closed. He lets me know, however, that if I do not get him to Toys-R-Us within the next five days then I must pay $20. This has been a long and exhausting negotiation but we have it squared.
The 11 year-old now begins drawing as well. He wants his own deal. He draws cartoons and jokes. He is working on a humorous collection.
I get my choice for dinner. Do I want a barbecue at Crescent Beach? The 16 year old is immersed in homework. He has missed a lot of school for all sorts of school events (track, leadership, mediation training) and begs off doing anything but homework. The 19 year old is still on campus (but I can see he has loaded new files into our Dropbox folder–he must be making progress). There is no point, however, in having a Mother’s Day barbecue at the beach with their schedules. I opt for turkey burgers at home. I know it is easier. It is Mother’s Day. It doesn’t really matter.
The 11 year-old takes my iPhone, my ear buds and heads out with the sound of music to clean up the yard. The 8 year-old has sold his complete art collection. The 16 year old has his haircut and the 19 year-old has uploaded his projects into Dropbox.
For me it’s been a simply good day.