52 Poems: Week 19 Not A Mother's Day Poem

I wish someone had given me the heads up about Mother's Day. Yes, mothers work hard. Yes, they should be appreciated, but the ads that run for weeks in advance are just Valentine's Day reruns. This is only my second Mother's Day as a mother, so it took me a while to figure out that all the expectations people put into Valentine's Day, Teacher Appreciation Week, and yes, Mother's Day are all about getting people to spend money and setting people up for disappointment.

David is still trying to figure out where I stand on the whole Mother's Day thing so he let me sleep in this morning. He helped Kiara make a cute little card and took his mom, Kiara, and me to the Dodger game.  But tonight, as I folded Kiara's laundry and started dinner I had to catch myself from being all, "Why am I doing this? It's Mother's Day." Whatever. It's Mother's Day. I'm happy to acknowledge and be acknowledged, but Mother's Day is just another one of those traps where other people are supposed to make me feel special. Pretty sure my mom taught me, only I can do that.
 
So, here is a poem from my 30 poem collection A Life in Revision: Reflections on Motherhood about the nesting I did before I became a mom.

 Anticipation
after Pablo Neruda’s “You Will Remember”

You will remember painting the mountain
cutting the clouds and raindrops,
framing the stars and shelving the books.

You will remember the showers in anticipation
of the girl to come: the cake and ice cream.
The tiny, pink clothes to wrap around an unfathomable body.

 You will remember the question mark

of who she will look like,
what shape her eyes will form.

That time was like never, and like always

Because now she is everything
and it is all waiting there.