So…yesterday (Mother’s Day) did not get off to the greatest start.
My fabulous husband let me sleep in and when I woke up (at 9!) all I heard was screaming. I poked my head out and Wonderbug was having an insane tantrum. We are talking EPIC.
After learning that it was due to hitting his sister and his father, I attempted to let daddy handle it while carrying around a hysterical baby who only wanted to be held by otherwise occupied daddy. Awesome. Later, I asked for the Bug for a Mother’s Day hug. Denied. Fist Bump? No thank you.
I wasn’t exactly feeling the love.
Needless to say, I was starting my day a tad disappointed. As I ate my yummy french toast alone, I started to mope a bit. Then my husband and son went out to run an errand (son still wouldn’t look at or talk to me) and I full on cried.
I had wanted a nice day with the family. By the time they got back to the house, I figured my hope of going to the Farmer’s Market was a distant memory and as my daughter screamed for daddy again, my eyes teared up. (Son still wouldn’t give me any sort of hug and when I tried to steal one, he screamed and said “leave me alone.”)
Oh my word, buck up sister!
Luckily my husband was smart enough to know what I needed and got us all packed up to go anyway — even though it was nap time and even though my son was still being downright unpleasant.
So after a nice excursion to get strawberries, blueberries and peaches, after a quick outing to Panera to read for thirty minutes uninterrupted and a fabulous take-out sushi dinner with MY mom and sister, I realized that Mother’s Day is sort of a cruel idea.
We moms have this vision of a day full of awesome appreciation. We want to sleep, avoid housework, have some peace and quiet, and hang with our happy family. It almost never happens.
If I look back on some of my prior Mother’s Days there was always some moment of utter madness. If I had looked at yesterday as just a typical Sunday at my house, I never would have cried. Sure, I still might have wanted to throw my son out a window a few times but I wouldn’t have wallowed in some immature, self-pity. I have a healthy, wonderful family that I am eternally grateful for.
So thanks Anna Jarvis. Thanks Hallmark for all those picture perfect moments that never quite happen the way you envision them.
I think in our household I’m putting Mother’s Day into the same category as Valentines. My family doesn’t need a holiday to celebrate me or appreciate me. They do a good job on most any other normal day.