You read that correctly. I really do. Why?
- It’s too much pressure. First, there’s the pressure to make it a good day for MY mom. Then of course, there’s the MIL to deal with. And my Grandma. Oh, and I have to make sure that *I* at least appear to be having a good day so that G and Lil G feel successful. With all of the pressure to make sure everyone else is having a good Mother’s Day, I’m not having such a relaxing day…
- It’s *really* important to my mom. But, she pretends like it isn’t. But, every year she’s all mopey because whatever we did wasn’t enough. So, #1 x 2.
- I have 8 dead children and 1 living child. Not such good stats for a mom. Really shitty stats, actually. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all kinds of grateful for Lil G. He’s awesome and I can’t imagine life without him. But, on this day celebrating motherhood, I am inevitably depressed thinking about all of my angels.
- It took lots and lots of years to get this one living kid. Most of those years I had dead babies. I really hate when people say things like “Happy second mother’s day” when I have been a mother for years and years.
- Much like every other holiday that involves gifts and cards, I am reminded just how little my husband really knows me. He will get me a card from the store that is either sappy/sweet (like the one he bought for his mom) or complimentary in a passive aggressive kind of way (like the one he bought for my mom, which we’re not giving her). The gift will either be an appliance (I’m hoping for a deep fryer if it is…) or a DVD (probably of a movie I only remotely give a shit about). I want jewelry (which we can’t afford) or flowers. Or gardening shit. Or fancy new crochet hooks.
- Facebook will be full of stories of other mommies sleeping until noon while their perfect husbands and perfect children cook and clean and give them a perfect day. *Blech* and *barf* I don’t want to hear it and also, I don’t fucking believe it.
So, yeah, I hate Mother’s Day. Let’s please cancel it.