This past Sunday was my first Mother's Day as a mother. For the past three decades (I'm rounding here), Mother's Day has always been about my mother, my aunts and my grandmothers; and even though my son is almost a year old, it took a while to sink in that the day was about me.
At first my expectations were low: a nice meal, perhaps a card, but as the day progressed the awesomeness of it really sunk in. I didn't have to listen to the baby monitor (I know this sounds inconsequential, but it was such a nice reprieve), change a diaper, or do dishes, and as an added bonus, my son slept for three hours (his "gift" to me) while I did some gardening and then lazily paged through Eat, Pray, Love.
Perhaps it was because I didn't expect much, but I was surprised by how much I enjoyed the day. It had all of the glory of my birthday without the age change!