As it stands now, I hate Mother’s Day.
This will be my 7th Mother’s Day, and I’ve yet to enjoy a single one. Yes, I’ve been a single parent for 3 of them already, coming up on my forth this Sunday, and I’m actually dreading it.
When married to E, he never understood the whole concept of celebrating the woman who gave birth to his children. The woman who brought life into the world. It never occurred to him to actually do anything special for me, whether it be something as simple as a card or flowers or something more extravagant (Ha, yea right). But nope, nothing. Ever.
So I learned to keep my expectations super low.
But now, as a single mom, for some reason people feel the need to bring up “How hard it must be” or “How do you do it alone” and all that crap on Mother’s Day. But then they have no follow up to it. No offers to help or anything. It’s like, I don’t need your pity. I don’t need a holiday to acknowledge my status of pushing a human out of my vagina. I have my life everyday to show me the reality of that.
What I need is a vacation. Or a night away from my kids. Or a simple massage.
So, no. I don’t need your words saying “I’m doing great” or “you could only imagine how hard it must be” Because first off, I know I’m doing a fantastic job of raising my kids. Your two cents makes no difference in how I choose to parent. But also, yeah, it’s beyond difficult. And I do struggle every day. Not just one stupid Sunday in May when Hallmark decided they wanted to make a huge profit. This is my life. 24/7. So keep your moronic comments to yourself. Don’t try to appease your guilt by talking to me on this one day a year. If you truly cared, or wanted to imagine what it must be like for me, why don’t you try it for a night. Why don’t you actually offer to take my kids for a night?
I have my kids ALL THE TIME. Which I am SOOOO grateful for because I don’t want them to have to spend a single night with E. So yeah, after 3 years I do basically have sole custody. But that doesn’t mean I don’t wish for a break sometimes. After 3 years I’ve had a couple nights where my kids have slept at my parents house. Maybe 4 or 5 nights total in over 3 years. A handful of nights in more than 1175 nights where I didn’t have to do the bedtime routine alone. I can count on one hand the number of nights where I could relax and sleep in as late as I wanted and not have to worry about what are my kids going to eat for breakfast. A few nights where I could walk around my house naked and not have to worry about scarring my son for life ;0 .
But the other thousand and change… was me and my kids… and no one else.
So I don’t wanna hear you saying “Happy Mother’s Day C” with a fake smile this Sunday. Cause no. It’s gonna be a Sunday like every other Sunday. Where I’m going to wake up in bed alone, with no breakfast on my nightstand. I’m going to go down to my kitchen. I’m going to make my kids breakfast. I’m going to wash the dishes. I’m going to help Z get dressed for the day. I’m going to make sure the kids wash their faces and brush their teeth. I’m going to open the handmade cards from my kids that have been sitting there since Friday, that they made at school/daycare. I’m going to appreciate them like nothing else.
And I truly want that to be it.
I don’t want those dumb e-cards. Or generic emails. Or annoying voicemails, because you know I’m not answering your call this weekend. Or ridiculous Facebook posts. Or obtuse comments from hypocritical people. Because they are not at all heartfelt or helpful. They are posted to make you feel better. They are zero help to me.
Just please leave me and my kids alone.
Like you do the other 364 days of the year.
-Kings Of Leon/Notion-