My Unconventional First Mother’s Day: Gifts, Patio, and Family
Sunday was surprisingly delightful in a decidedly nontraditional, intimate way. The whole weekend felt like an extended Mother’s Day celebration. On Saturday we visited the farmer’s market and attended a local Bon Air parade and festival with Clara and John (Burger skipped the parade because he’s afraid of firetrucks and loud noises). Then on Sunday I woke up to a tiny, crinkled handmade card from Clara—covered in adorable crayon scribbles—and another sweet card from John and Burger. John had also prepared a printed story titled “The Tale Of Sherry’s First Mother’s Day,” which made me laugh and feel loved.
In the printout John explained how he’d gone looking for the gold Calypso dangly earrings from Target that I’d been eyeing, but they were sold out in the stores he checked and online. He even dug through my Pinterest boards to find another pair I’d pinned and ended up ordering a different pair for me from Etsy. When I opened his little reveal, there was genuine excited arm-flapping on my part. I absolutely love them. Their lemon-like shape reminded me of our backyard wedding and added a bright, personal touch to the gift. It felt thoughtful that he’d taken the time to search my pins to find something I really wanted.
The actual earrings hadn’t arrived by morning, so John included a photo of them in the printout and also surprised me with a voucher for a Mother’s Day massage—continuing a new tradition he started the previous year when I was heavily pregnant and desperately needed prenatal massage relief. He didn’t book the massage on Mother’s Day itself, saying he wanted me to choose a later date so I could spend the full day with Clara. It was considerate and exactly what I wanted: a present that prioritized time together and my own relaxation. Thanks, hubs, for both the pampering and the pretty baubles.
After the morning card-and-gift moment, the three of us went to Einstein Bagels—one of my favorite breakfast spots. I treated myself to an asparagus and mushroom flatbread sandwich (with a coupon—score!), while John and Clara shared a muffin and a slice of coffee cake. The breakfast was simple and comforting, and it felt good to be out with my little family. Back home, Clara took a nap and John went outside to work on the patio while I settled in on Karl the Sectional to watch a bit of reality TV and decompress. The plan was for him to tackle the patio for a couple of hours, then come in, shower, and spend the rest of the day with us.
As the afternoon progressed, it became clear that Project Patio would take longer than expected. Rather than cut into our family time, we decided I’d stay inside and play with Clara while John continued working on the pavers. What mom wouldn’t choose a mostly finished patio as a Mother’s Day present? Clara and I played with blocks, traced with crayons, did puzzles, shared a light lunch, and practiced assisted walking a bit—no dramatic “first steps” were missed. We also stepped outside for some fresh air and played on the unfinished patio while John worked nearby. It was sweet to see both of our “kids”—Clara and Burger—enjoying the new outdoor space even before it was complete.
Burger seemed especially thrilled to be outside and enjoyed roaming the new space. It warmed my heart to watch him and Clara interact on the patio while John focused on the finishing touches in the background. There’s something grounding about shared, quiet family moments that make holidays like this truly meaningful.
After several hours of hard work by John, our Mother’s Day patio was essentially finished. He’d cut all the edge pavers and planned to fill the joints with sand the following day. We had just enough time to enjoy a casual family dinner—Five Guys burgers, which hit the spot—and then put the bean to bed. In the evening we relaxed on the sofa; John typed up a post for Monday while we watched a long episode of a reality show. It was the kind of low-key, fulfilling day that felt like a real gift: thoughtful surprises, family time, a little pampering promised for later, and a new outdoor space to enjoy together.
Looking back, what made this Mother’s Day so special wasn’t grand gestures or perfect timing. It was the thoughtfulness—John paying attention to the things I’d been admiring, his decision to give me a massage appointment I could schedule, the way our small family spent the day together while he worked to create something lasting for all of us. That mix of attention, effort, and ordinary moments turned a simple Sunday into one of the best Mother’s Days I can remember.