The irony of Mother’s Day is that mothering is the exact last thing I want to do on this one special day of the year dedicated to the moms who give their all to these tiny fart nugget children who are also the pride and joy of our very existence in this life.
Holla at me if you relate to any of the following:
I’ve bled for these children, fluctuated 50 lbs a piece for these children, fed these children (FROM MY OWN BOOBS WHICH ARE NOW SAD AND FLAPPY BECAUSE OF IT), lost sleep for these children (so much sleep, remember what it felt like to sleep? ), sprouted varicose veins for these children, gotten stitches in my vagina for these children, spent all of my money on these children, attended so many games and practices for these children where they do nothing but swarm around a ball, or sit in the outfield and stare at the sun. Driven all over kingdom come for these children.
Worn my heart on the outside of my body for the past 9+ years for these children.
I DRIVE A FREAKING MINIVAN FOR THESE CHILDREN.
And yet, the last thing I want to do on this blessed day is to actually be around these children. Like, at all.
It’s nothing personal, my sweet darlings. It’s just that I want a day. One day, just one where I can 100% check out and the house doesn’t burn down and life goes on and we all wake up the next morning and go back to our old routines.
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I need one day to enjoy Netflix to my heart’s delight, to sleep in, to lock the door without small hands sticking underneath or anyone asking me to help them wipe. One day without breaking up a fight, just one. I need one day where Dad handles it all. I don’t want flowers necessarily (although, I wouldn’t say no because flowers are beautiful and delicate, just like me), I don’t even need a gift.
I do want my children to understand that this is a special day just for Mom where we have to leave her alone, OR ELSE, and that they all must make her a card professing their love and appreciation, even if that card just has their name written on it with some half-crooked hearts and something that looks like an orc drawn on there which actually turns out to be a rendering of yours truly.
Whatever, it’s fine. I’ll take it.
Dads or significant others, do your lady a solid on this Mother’s Day if you’ve still got kids at home (and if they’re gone make sure you remind them to call home because duh, still important):
- Have each child write a card or note to her expressing their love and undying devotion and appreciation and make sure you write her one too.
- Let her sleep in
- Get her favorite treat and leave it like a peace offering at the bedroom door. Don’t open the door unless she specifically calls for you and invites you into her kingdom, for she is the queen of the day. Or whatever.
- Don’t ask her to do anything. Anything at all. If she comes out of her room don’t make eye contact and just stare at the ground unless she speaks to you directly.
- Don’t ask any questions either, you can figure it out for one single day.
- Prepare or fetch any food for her that she desires. Bonus points for having her favorite treat on hand (*COUGH CHOCOLATE COVERED CINNAMON BEARS).
- Let her wake up to a clean house. Do the dishes, don’t leave laundry out, just take care of the kids and all the stuff she does every single day. You can do it. Don’t screw this up.
- Don’t forget to call your own mom and tell her you love her too. She’s important, DO NOT FORGET.
I recognize that I don’t speak for all moms, but for all moms who are on the same page as me…all we want is one dang day.
Tomorrow, it’s back to business as usual.
Happy Mother’s Day! Now leave me the hell alone.