15 Kinda Funny but Very Real Things I Actually Want For Mother's Day

Before you have children, this might seem like a silly request, but I haven't had a whole cup of hot coffee in over a decade. You'll take a sip, maybe two, and then you'll have to turn away from your mug of heaven to do things like make breakfast and lunches, force your kids to get dressed, try and squeeze in a shower, or bring your troops to the bus stop. It sounds downright dreamy to think that maybe, just maybe, as a special treat, I can just drink my coffee uninterrupted.

It was cute the first few times my kids made "Mom Coupons" that I could cash in for back scratches and massages, but now, I would like a gift card to a facility where I can get a proper massage by a person that dedicated months of their life to learning how to give one. Also, unless my kids have learned the skill of gel manicures or hot stone pedicures, I think we've exhausted all the "at-home pampering" we possibly could. Nobody in this household is able to pamper me in a way that I'm interested in or would find enjoyable, so please consider a gift card to a place where I can go and relax.

Pretend that this is Lord of the Flies, and you have no mother and have to fend for yourselves. Don't ask me for anything. Figure out solutions to whatever issues you're having. Get a conch shell. Live off the land. I'm locking the doors. Oh, and by the way, when you come back, don't ask me for dinner.

I don't care today. Don't tell me about any ailments or discomforts. This includes but is not limited to hunger, thirst, stomach pains, sore throats, stubbed toes, injuries sustained while fighting with siblings, zits, blisters, and diarrhea. Why do I need to know about every feeling your stomach has at all times?

Unless you've learned how to sew together a new Lululemon tennis skirt, then I'm not interested in anything homemade. This might sound harsh, but when the kids are little, they come home from school with a Mother's Day card or craft that's clearly made by the teacher. And I'm expected to open this up while sitting in bed surrounded by muffins and juice and pretend it's the best thing I ever saw?

When the kids are older, it's even worse. My 11 and 12-year-old children simply scratch out "I love you" on a card they made five minutes after they woke up and their father told them to. How about a card that says, "I know I talk back, play Fortnight all day, and ignore you, but you are really skinny and a good cook." Or say, "You're prettier and cooler than all of the other moms." That would be great.

Can EVERYONE SHUT UP? The constant yelling from my children, and the TVs, video games, and drum sets gets to be a bit much. And now with baseball season in full swing, my husband and sons have an annoying habit of screaming at the TV while they watch the games.

I would just love some peace and quiet.

There's nowhere I'd rather be than cheering for my kids on the sidelines during a game on Mother's Day. But please don't cancel any premade plans, games, or activities because you think it would make me happy. What you're really doing is making me plan an entire day of activities for their now-free schedules. No thanks. Let the games and activities continue as planned.

I don't want to talk or think about third grade math that I couldn't possibly do on a regular day, let alone on Mother's Day. I don't care much about your book report or your science or spelling tests. Today, figure it out.

If my husband is kind enough to offer to make breakfast or dinner, it likely means that I'll be at the grocery store at some point buying the ingredients. I now prefer at least one meal of the day out of the house. What would be so luxurious is if someone would know to call and make a reservation at that place I've been wanting to try for months.

I'm not the type of mother that's going to be impressed when you hand me a flower or a plant. All I see is something else that needs food, water, and attention. Did you notice that I gave you chicken nuggets and water the other night for dinner? That's me struggling to keep you alive — the last thing I need is another living thing to worry about.

Almost daily, I'll go to get my phone off of the charger, only to find that one of my little angels has ripped it off hours ago to use the charge themselves. I usually have 12 percent battery while everyone in my house runs on 100 percent at all times. You know, because they are more important than me. I've spent a lot of money on car and home phone chargers over the years, so why the hell do I not have a charged phone? Ever?

Nobody tells you that when you get married and give birth, you're essentially signing up to find these individual's belongings for the rest of your life. You will know where every bottle, pacifier, wallet, diaper, and set of car keys is, and it's a curse you can't escape. On Mother's Day, it would be great if you could find your own shit.

It would be great if I didn't have to pick something up off the ground every two seconds of my life. People in my house actually come in the door and strip. They kick of their shoes and socks wherever the mood strikes them. They throw backpacks and lunch bags all over the place. They shed their jackets and hoodies and sports jerseys all over the house. If you want to honor me on my special day, don't be a pig.

There are certain tasks that I don't care to do. I know it's upsetting to never have a matching sock, but I don't care. After I'm done cooking, cleaning, working, and washing and folding 52 pounds of laundry, I'm not going to sit around matching socks. But while I don't care enough to actually match them, I would be so happy if you did!

If I had a choice between flowers, breakfast in bed, or socks being paired with their proper partner and put in the correct drawer, I would choose the socks every time.

I have zero desire to eat a meal in bed unless I have fallen ill. I don't understand why anyone would find it luxurious to sit straight up in their sleeping attire surrounded by clean, fresh comforters and sheets and eat and drink. Am I supposed to eat food staring straight ahead alone in my bed, as though I have been hospitalized? Or should my family all gather around me, jostling my coffee and juice, giving me anxiety and/or extra laundry to do after all of the linens are destroyed from this bizarre meal?

I would prefer to wake up at my leisure and be served breakfast at a table. Or better yet, I would like to be served breakfast by a barista or some other waitstaff who will take my plate away at the end of this whole thing.