Whoever coined the term "Mother's Day", I want to throat punch them.
As I was talking to my friends today, the consensus was that every last one of us hated Mother's Day. And I dare bet, dear reader with multiple kids, you might too.
Before I get too far, let me just say that I have the absolute best mom in the world. Worthy of every praise and honor bestowed upon her. I am deeply grateful for her, and deeply grateful that I have been blessed with kids to call me mom on Mother's Day.
As we started comparing stories, a few things were present for each of us.
Pressure for our kids to be on their best behavior.
Did I mention running?
I propose that much of my hatred comes from a misrepresentation of the words Mother's Day. After all, I am a mother. So this day should be about celebrating me, right?
Like most moms, I would do anything for my kids. Just last night, I fell asleep in my daughter's toddler bed because she was afraid and couldn't go to sleep. It didn't matter that I woke up with a barbie doll shoe imprint in my cheek; she needing comforting and I was there.
Baseball, basketball, oh! the meals we prepare that are met immediately with "I don't like this", screaming at the grocery store because we won't back down and buy them candy, the discipline, the hours of homework.
You get it.
Mother's are givers.
We give and give and give. Then we run out, and give some more.
So this one day, I feel like it would be nice to be celebrated.
Be MY day.
In my head, this generally includes me sitting curled up on the couch, reading a book while my children wait on me hand and foot with all sorts of delicious baked goods.
I lounge in my chair as they tell me how appreciative they are for the 51 hours of labor I endured to bring them into the world.
Actually, scratch that.
All I really want is a day of no fighting. Would that be too much to ask?
There is no scenario that consists of me spending hours running, with thoughtful and creative home made gifts and plates of brownies and canned corn side dishes, to our various families.
A few years ago, I finally finished getting ready for Mother's Day at four am.
The presents were wrapped, the food was made, our yearly foot print garden stones were completed (see above), our baptism gift was set aside (because heaven only knows there is always a baptism or two thrown in on the craziest day ever), the kid's church clothes were picked out, the second set of play clothes were packed, diapers and wipes and bottles and pacifiers were in another bag. My father-in-laws birthday present was also wrapped and ready, along with pajamas for the kids since we wouldn't get back until bed time.
Before it even started, I was exhausted.
You know what never happens on Mother's Day? A nap.
It is the one day of the year, without fail, my kids will.not.nap. There is no sneaking a nap in with them, either. By the time lunch is finished and presents are opened, it's time to pack up kids, bottles, bags, presents, canned corn, brownies, and move on to the next house.
I guess more than anything, I need to change my thinking. Stop attaching the notion that it is a day for me to relax. I need to refocus and celebrate the fact that I have an awesome mom to celebrate. I have beautiful and healthy children that I adore and call me mom.
Please tell me I am not alone in this, though? Anyone?
PS- Don't send me any stories of you eating chocolate covered strawberries while taking a nap or I might need to throat punch you, too.