First Official Day of My Very Special Spring Break

Finally...Well, Not Exactly

After a long semester mixed with stress and bordom (yes, you can have both), I have made it to the ever-longed for, always highly anticipated Spring Break. This means that I am allowed to sleep until 7:30 in the morning instead of the customary 6 am that I normally faced with Monday through Friday. I choose the word "allowed" with intent, as my mother (superhero codename "Sleep and Eat Nazi') actually knocked on my bedroom door this morning and said rather loudly, "Breakfast is ready." 

As Dave Barry is wont to say, "I am not making this up." 

Now, in fact, I was already awake thinking of my day, reading Amanda's latest message on my phone with a David Tennant article and pictures (we are both HUGE fortysomething fangirls)--I was looking at the pictures, of course, and feeling a bit secure right there in my bed. 

Of course, my mother had been up since probably around 4:30 this morning. 

It would be really easy to get really frustrated with mom because of her desire to raise the entire household no later than 8 am. I work hard, pay bills, and sometimes, I just want to luxuriate in my own bed with no time constraints. I also want someone to bring me coffee and danish whilst I luxuriate in my own bed. 

Stop laughing, Amanda. I can hear it all the way over here. 

One morning, it dawned on my why my mother wakes us up no later than 8 am.

She's bored and hungry and lonely. 

Now most logical people would enjoy this pre-family time. They would make coffee, have a cup or two, read the paper, have some breakfast on their own, and be done with it. My mother, however, does not work this way. She reads the paper (if it doesn't come on time, it's a whole new drama--her day is in shambles by the time I'm up) and messes around in the kitchen some. Then she makes breakfast, usually while I'm up at 6 attempting to make Stuart's lunch for school. 

 I try to not complain much. She makes us a real breakfast every morning. Every morning. She likes having us all at the table even if all we do is sort of grunt while she rambles on about the weather and what she read in the newspaper before we were awake and what she thinks we should do during the day ahead. It's a nice thought, and I respect this choice of hers. Really. 

Just not on the first official day of my very special Spring Break. 

Spring Break: The Dream

Spring Break would be a lot different if I didn't live with the "Sleep and Eat Nazi." I would probably still be in bed writing this instead of on my couch fully dressed. Stuart would still be in bed,but he'd be snoring (yes, son, you DO snore. Don't kid yourself. I have video evidence.). Best case scenario, I'd have someone to bring me coffee and danish in bed. I'm not sure who that someone would be. It would be really nice though, and since this is MY dream, there would be someone (to be named later) to bring me coffee and danish in bed. 

My window would open onto a small patio where I could see the ocean and smell the salt air. This patio would have a hammock and a papasan chair. I might decide to get up out of my bed and drink my coffee and eat my danish on the patio while still wearing my pajamas. I'd read, take in the soft sun of the rising morning, and generally take my time. 

Maybe that someone would bring me more coffee. Yeah. That'd be nice. 

I'd work on the ever growing novel that is currently stored in my now slightly outdated MacBook (2009, late spring. Still runs like a top). 

No one would knock on my door, bellowing, "Breakfast is ready." No one would care how long I stayed in my pyjamas or that "things have to get done." 

Spring Break: Reality

Those of you who know me, know that I love my mother. She is the bomb. No one makes cakes, pies, and bread like my mom. No one sews like my mom. No one can love me the way mom loves me. No one is like my mom. I have this dream of a different Spring Break only because I just want to do things differently. I know some of my millions of readers will want to post, "Oh, you shouldn't whine about your mom. One day you won't have her around."

I know this. Believe me. I remind myself of this every time I want to snark or throw something at my bedroom door when she wakes me at 7:30 with "Breakfast is ready."

Still. It's Spring Break. I just want to meander into it if that's ok.