Mother’s Day is Stupid

After the first couple years of being a mom, I started to dislike Mother’s Day.

Once the obligatory flowers & cards stopped showing up, if anything was going to happen on that day, it was up to me to plan and execute. Most “celebrations” included me making two of the meals we ate that day, along with buying everyone take out for the third meal.

This isn’t a woe-is-me piece, this is just a snapshot of how my life was in my early motherhood years.

Yesterday, after a friend wished me an early Happy Mother’s Day, she added, “I hope your girls spoil you.”

I answered back, “I feel spoiled just having them.”

That is my truth.

I am lucky and grateful for each and every second that I am a mother. Even when they are being assholes and triggering childhood traumas, simply by leaving their clutter everywhere after I’ve cleaned our house, or watching them not move a muscle, with the exception of eating, for what seems to be 14 hours of an entire day.

There is way too much pressure to have a wonderful day during these dumb holidays.

I used to know best friends who would plan Mother’s Day brunch for themselves and their families to enjoy, knowing that their menfolk wouldn’t do it, or, more specifically, wouldn’t do it “correctly.”