"What do you want for Mother's Day?" "How bout an adventure?" "Where do you want to go?" "You can go anywhere, I'm staying home and relaxing!"

My husband stared at me, his head tilting to one side like a dog hearing a sound he didn't understand.

It was and still is the most simplest, greatest, precious thoughtful gift I'd ever heard: "To be home alone in your own house."

When you have small kids, you are never home alone. Think about it...If you have a sitter, you are out of the house. If you have a date with your husband, you are out of the house.

When you have small kids, your kids are always home. To get any kind of rest or mental rejuvenation, you usually have to leave the house, run to bed the minute your kids go down, or hide in the closet while dad mans the troops without calling you for help every five minutes.

Last year, my desired gift was simple. Four hours at home with me, myself and I. While my husband got to enjoy a rare outing alone with his children, I got to lay in bed, read my book, watch TV, and simply breathe without someone demanding Mom's help or attention.

When I shared my gift with my Mom friends, their jaws dropped in awe. One even called her husband, "Next year, forget the gold bracelet, I've got a better idea!" Each of them thought the home alone idea was the most wonderful gift they'd ever heard. "The best part," my husband, Brad, has said, "Spending a few hours alone with the kids on Mother's Day is a constant reminder of how much we love you and appreciate you." I guess my kids couldn't stop talking about me and wanted to buy me everything they saw: A new vacuum, a new car, a huge bag of oranges on the side of the road. My husband failed to mention due to his procrastination problem, this four-hour window is actually a gift for him!

Around 2pm, my kids and husband came home, racing directly to the bath, and by the time they found me, I was rested and rejuvenated....and they were dressed, bathed and full of appreciation. But not Brad. He looked as if he'd been through war: his hair was messy, his eyes were droopy, and his laugh was on a TV time delay. Fifteen minutes later he whispers to me, "I need a nap."

"It's Mother's Day." I whispered back. "Twenty minutes?" Brad looked desperate, "Please?" Yes, my loyal readers, on Mother's Day my husband took a 30-minute nap.

But it was wonderful. I got my gift of being home alone, and my husband and kids had a chance to bond and think about how wonderful their Mom is to them all year long. My kids are already looking forward to it this year: "Dad, on Mother's Day, are we getting ice cream for breakfast again?"