Hawai‘i Parent to Parent: A Mother’s Day Dream

Leo di Caprio phone messages, burrito diet and no vomit in my face. That’s all I want for Mother’s Day.


My story begins with vomit to the face. That would be my child’s vomit, and that would be my face. It was Mother’s Day 2011.


I suppose the universe was testing my motherhood that day, because my husband was away on the mainland, and both of my children had a gnarly case of the stomach flu. As I was bending over to check on my young son in his crib, the sweet little angel fire-hosed me in the face. My poor daughter was in the bathroom having her own heave-ho. Oh, joy of joys!


Splattered with youth puke and looking for some sympathy, I called my husband, who answered from a limo—you heard me, a LIMO—where he and all his friends, fresh from a concert in San Francisco, were heavy into some drunken sing-along and champagne-popping. Basically having the time of their lives. My husband replied, “What? WHAT? Babe, I can’t hear you. I’m in a limo!” Needless to say, I cursed and hung up on him.


He has since made up for that Mother’s Day. (Although I will never let him forget it.) So while we’re on the topic, and since Mother’s Day is again approaching, here’s the fantasy scenario I’ll be dreaming for this year:


[Cue harp music]


I sleep in until noon, when the sounds of crashing waves at my oceanfront resort villa wake me peacefully. The strapping young cabana boy, Brice, informs me it’s time for my morning massage and breakfast Mai Tai.


SEE ALSO: What the Mai Tai Means to Me and 8 Places You Can Mai Tai One On​​


My loving husband calls to tell me, “Babe, I’ve got the kids, so don’t worry about a thing. I sent over $10,000 and a limo. Go shopping. Get whatever you want.” Ohhh, to be Pretty Woman for one day without the whole prostitution thing! Anyway. I embark upon my chauffeured shopping spree, and not once do I stop at Old Navy or Payless. I beeline for the snootiest stores and buy $300 jeans and $250 dollar tops and $800 shoes and a $3,000 bag and $150 wrinkle cream—wait, scratch that, I don’t have wrinkles in my fantasy. Moving on.


I check my phone. Chris Hemsworth and Leonardo di Caprio have been sending me flirty texts—AGAIN. Jeez, they can’t get enough of me. Anyway, after all that hard shopping, now it’s time for my afternoon massage and bottle of Malbec. Brice turns down my bed for a nap.


I awake from the most glorious snooze in history, and then it’s time for my evening massage and chili Frito burrito. After eating it, I look down and discover that, in this world, Fritos have the power to miraculously melt away belly fat. My chiseled abs gleam in the dusk light.


Then, my darling, clean, well-behaved children call to tell me, “Oh Mother Dearest, how we miss you so. We’re having so much fun with Daddy and getting along so peacefully. We vacuumed up all the disgusting chunks of food we always leave under the couch, and Daddy hired a maid—no, a staff of maids—to make you happy, Mommy. Three of them are here right now, detailing the bathtub with Q-tips. Daddy has also been really busy getting his masseuse license so he can give you exceptional back massages every day. Ok, Mother Dearest, we’re finishing our homework and plan to go to bed early so we can fix you breakfast before heading off to our all-scholarship-paid private school tomorrow. Byyeee!”


As I watch the sun set over the ocean, my fantasy day is nearing its end. The bad news is, I do have to return to work the next day. But the good news is, I’ve been offered a multi-million dollar salary to test hammocks and taste artisanal cheeses. Simultaneously. My title will be Senior Dairy Intake Coordinator & Chief Suspension Relaxation Analyst.


Finally, Madam President Beyoncé calls to tell me that all the world’s problems have been solved and nobody has anything to worry about ever again. The end.


Is that too much to ask?



Ashley de Coligny is a mom of an 8-year-old future World Cup champ and a 6-year-old aspiring jedi knight (or leader of the dark side of the Force). She is a prolific writer, witty Facebook user and Macgyver-esque Halloween costume expert who is always seeking fun for the whole family, a clean spot in her mom-mobile and a moment of silence. The best parenting advice she’s ever received is “Take a hot shower and drink a glass of wine.”