I just do. This is my second one. It’s not for me, I’m sorry. I hate Mother’s Day.
Let me be clear that I have a great relationship with my mother, as well as my mother-in-law. I am a mother.
And now, I absolutely can’t stand Mother’s Day.
I’ve had a handful of moments of “oh, wow, I really am a mom now”.
Here are some that stick out to me:
- Viewing the idea of a new pet as “just another thing for me to clean up after”
- Bones I didn’t even know I had creaking when I walk
- Premature forehead wrinkles
- Premature grey hair
- Spastically hitting the OFF button on the radio when a song said the word “sex” when my daughter was in the car
You know the deal.
You know how I really know I’m a mom?
I just want to be left alone on Mother’s Day.
I want to kiss my daughter and my husband goodbye and check into a hotel with my laptop and a book and Chipotle. I don’t want to have to walk the dog or put on real clothes or answer to anyone.
What I want the most for Mother’s Day is to be completely absolved of my responsibilities.
The more I’m here on earth the more I’m realizing that the core principle, the central theme of motherhood has always been and will always be, sacrifice.
New, tangible examples of this reveal themselves to me as time goes on.
I know that there are people who don’t have their moms, people with shitty moms, people longing to be moms or moms who wish that they could spend the day with their kids who aren’t here anymore. I acknowledge that I’m coming from a place of entitled privilege. I am deeply lucky.
So, cheers to the alternate universe version of me thats sitting on a beach somewhere, reading and writing and thinking about something other than meal plans and shopping lists and stewing in self-pity.
I’m not sure how to end this post. Maybe I’ll feel differently next year.
If you are interested in guest posting on Leaf and Steel, please check out our Guest Post page for guidelines!