Writing about Mother’s Day two weeks after the fact is a bit risky. Who wants to read about the past? I didn’t allow myself to write about Mother’s Day on or around the day itself because I was ashamed at how ungrateful I sounded, and actually felt.
All I wanted for Mother’s Day this year was a cup of coffee and my laptop. Be nice to me, gimme a kiss and let that be the end of it. This year, I didn’t want to celebrate Mother’s Day because quite frankly, this season of mothering, for me, sucks. We did celebrate, had a lovely breakfast, a fabulous dinner and went to a play that all of us enjoyed. But…
I’ve had minor (thank goodness) growing pains with one of my teenagers and it sucks. Minor things grow bigger when hurled at you daily and rapidly. Being the mom, I’m the one that needs to think things through, focus on solutions. All I want to do is scream (which I have done) and make snide comments (which I have done as well,) and kind of run away (I am still here.) And then I feel bad that I don’t behave like a good mom should – with patience and awareness and intention and love and a wonderful change of perspective and blahblahblah…and all those things I want to be remembered as…And I know, I know, good moms have bad days too. But, blahfreakinblah!
Then in sets the guilt and the doubt and all those other lovely fucker emotions working to take me down. And some days, I let them. I have a pity party. And I get tired and annoyed and want to throw in the towel that I absolutely can’t throw in. I have to stick it out and work through the issues and love and connect and be the driver, the cook and the heart of the house. But sometimes I DON’T WANNA.
Why do I have to be the one to make it all ok?! Oh, I’m the mom. My husband, God bless this man, looks at me in wonder and patiently waits until I come full circle, back to my senses, and says something wonderful like “you know this is happening because she’s a teenager and this is what she is supposed to do.” And I nod angrily (like a teenager.) And he says I need to let things roll off my back. And I need to let go. My skin can’t get thick quick enough.
I have wonderful kids. I love them to the bone. They’re the perfect kids for me. I am a good mom. I am a good mom, with an abundance of adoration and gratitude and joy for these beings. And I have sadness and frustration and fuckuppedness too. Lately, the fuckuppedness is weighing the scales. At the end of the day, I work to let it all go, and remind myself to be gentle with myself and with my kiddos while we navigate the bumpy road of teenagedom, the fear and relief of letting go and the doubt that wants to join the party.
So while maybe Mother’s Day was a day for celebration and brunches, for me, this year, it was a day of a heavy sigh, embracing the bad and the good and a riding of the storm. Sometimes on this motherhood journey the best fix is solitude, my coffee (and wine and wine at night,) and my laptop. I continue to strive to live like a clock in a thunderstorm. Still ticking while the rain comes down. Steadily breathing and smiling through the storm, knowing the sunshine is always there.
How are you feeling this year on Mother’s Day? No matter how you feel – it’s SO OKAY! Good, bad or somewhere inbetween – it’s SO OKAY. Let me know in the comments below.
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