I went on a date with my mom the other day.

lunch at her favorite restaurant

+

the complete movie experience [read: a romantic comedy, buckets of popcorn, softdrinks, really soft cushion seats, all-out mother-daughter banter]

It was my post-birthday slash thanks-for-supporting-my studies treat. At first, I was quite pleased with myself for thinking of such a good way to show her my appreciation for everything she has done for me.

Background:

1. I do give her gifts. But that's like a staple for occasions.

2. I've written cards and letters that brought her to tears. She really appreciates those. I know for a fact that she keeps them in a special place and reads them every once in a while. But she totally deserves that. What good is someone's talent if it would not be dedicated to the people who made it all possible?

3. We do go out a lot, most of the time shopping. But those trips involve me and things I need. I make use of her wonderful fashion advice but in turn just make her tired. She's happy to go with me of course and never complains. But really, I get pretty much everything positive: clothes, food, fun whereas she gets the stress.

4. I'm quite a good obedient daughter but that's nothing compared to her being such a devoted mother.

Bottomline: It has always been about me.

And so I thought that this little date was special because it was about her. For once. Totally deserved. So long overdue.

We had a good time. We talked a lot. We held hands. 'Coz we're both movie buffs, we found a nice common ground. I paid. She felt good, really touched by her daughter's act of love.

I thought that was the end of the story, the completion of my "wonderful daughter" task, some quality time spent. But as it turns out there's more to things than I recognized.

When we arrived home, she said thank you looking really pleased. But the smile that came with the thanks stayed on her face for only a few seconds. Upon entering the door, she switched back to "mommy mode." The first thing she did was to check if my brother was home from his OJT. Then she instructed the maid to take out the meat for dinner, brought my dad a glass of water, put my newly-ironed clothes inside my closet, etc. etc. I can't believe how long the "to attend to" list of mommies are. What struck me even more is that she seemed to perform all her duties as a mother and as a wife with quiet efficiency and without the slightest hint of tiredness and frustration like I know I would feel if I were in her shoes.

That was when it hit me.

If my mom and I were to make a list of self-sacrificial acts/acts of love we did for each other so as to make some kind of "bill" to even things out, I could never repay her completely. I'd probably have about a hundred points compared to her hundred thousand.

She loves me and cares for me every single moment of each and every day. It's in her kisses. It's in her hugs. It's in her regular phone calls when I was still at the dorm. It's in the way she shares the trivial things that have happened in her day. (Yes, I'm guilty of sometimes just letting her talk and not really listening although now I find it nice that she wishes to include me in her everyday through that.) It's in her always remembering to buy my favorite snacks. It's in the way she wakes me up early in the morning ('coz I ask her, not really thinking it's so inconvenient for her, now I know better) only to come back 30 minutes after to force me to get me off my butt before I'm late again. It's in the way she keeps quiet when I shout at her at times I am such a brat. It's in the way she musters a smile and a thank you when I've done something for her and think that it is enough despite the fact that it really isn't.

My mom deserves so much more than the out-of-the-blue treats.

Maybe we can go to the parlor next week. And I could give her extra hugs. And I could be less of a princess. And I could help her cook. The list goes on and on...