Mother’s Day: Part Deux

I know.  Mother’s Day is over.

You have had your day to sleep in.  Your breakfast in bed, no matter how questionable, has been eaten.  You have gotten your handmade gifts, adulations and praise.  It is back to real life now, baby.

Who’s excited?!  Can I see a show of hands?

*crickets*

Something has been bothering me.  There’s just a little monkey on my back.

My Mother’s Day was lovely but some of you got a whole lotta nothin’ for Mother’s Day.  You woke up to the same roles and responsibilities.  Laundry loads went in and dishes were stacked up with your invisible name all over them.

Some of you could care less about holidays.  You don’t celebrate birthdays, Christmas or even, Halloween.  There are people who don’t celebrate everything in a big way.

 I am not friends with any of those people because they won’t come to my parties.

Everyone is different.

What about you?  What did you want?

Take a moment.  Breathe.  What did you want.

Don’t get upset if the day was a total shit show.  Don’t get mad if your husband looked at you like, “what” when you reminded him that it was Mother’s Day.  Maybe it’s not totally his fault.  Maybe you were not clear with your expectations.  We tend to do that as women.

You know, the martyr thing.

Maybe you’re a single mommy and there simply wasn’t anyone around to do anything for you.

You don’t need to panic.  You don’t need to get mad.  You simply need a redo.

Have you ever had your child give you a smart alleck response and you offered him a chance to try again before you took away his entire universe of toys?  Your husband may need the same opportunity.

This time, mince no words.  Practice with me.

  1. I want to sleep in.
  2. I want a hot shower to myself. (If a child so much as leans into the bathroom door, so help me…)
  3. I want to have tea with my sisters.
  4. I wanna dance with somebody.

If you have to, call a girlfriend who loves you and tell her you intend to celebrate the love of your single motherhood life with some quiet time recharging for another year of raising a wild animal into a genteel adult of perfect character.  I’ll bet you, she will cover you.  She knows how hard your job is and she respects you for all the sacrifices you make every day.

Motherhood is the hardest job in the world.  It is not the pretend hardest job in the world.  It is the real deal.  In one day, you deal in so many kinds of crap, you should be handing out enemas and sometimes it feels like you are.

Single mommies, give yourself a do over.  You are a valuable woman doing a valuable job.  Honor yourself.

Mommies with a slacker or miseducated husband, schedule another date for Mother’s Day.  Let him know that, just like a sloppy child working on his handwriting, he will have as many opportunities to correct his mistake as he needs.

Finish it off with this statement:

“I get one day a year.  Don’t eff it up.”

It doesn’t have to be much.  Sometimes a letter like the one Scott Nagele wrote for his wife on his blog called Snoozing on the Sofa: Fatherhood’s Finest Hour will totally fit the bill!

*kleenex alert*

And in the end, if it still doesn’t happen for you.  If the world looks down on you with your screaming toddler, empty potluck hands and jacked up pedicure, know that I am right here with you.  Laughing in the face of perfection and waving the flag of mediocrity every single day.  Solidarity, sisters.

Happy Mother’s Day, ladies.

From the trenches,

Tashmica

PS – for the record, my husband has gotten progressively better at celebrations since he met me.  Therefore, I am a behavioral therapist specializing in all manner of hoopla and shenanigans related to festivities.  I will have to add that to my business cards.