Here’s something you probably didn’t expect to hear from me: I hate Mother’s Day. Not because it’s a “Hallmark holiday” and not because every day should be Mother’s Day. In truth, it’s always been a great day spent with family, wonderful weather and food. And that’s like the best-day-ever trifecta. But I still dread the day. Why? This year marked my 29th Mother’s Day without a mother. Crazy, right? Sure, I always changed it to Happy Mother’s Day, Granny. And I honestly never felt left out in school when we’d be forced to do flowery Mother’s Day projects. But come on, who was I kidding? It’s totally not the same.
I thought that once I became a mother, I’d learn to appreciate the day more. I really wanted to believe and just enjoy the “holiday”. I can totally play the game, too. After all, it’s a day dedicated to me. I sleep in, I decide what we’re doing, where we’re going, when we’re leaving (perhaps it’s just like any other Sunday?). I graciously accept Mother’s Day wishes from strangers. I also find myself glancing over at Craig several times saying “I don’t like Mother’s Day” and oddly, just saying it out loud helps. Kind of pathetic, I know. Some therapist could have a field day with this, I’m sure, but that’s where I stand on the topic.
Aside from the dark cloud of Mother’s Day looming overhead, it truly was a lovely day. Annie and Judah both made me awesome cards in school (which may still be under the stroller from Friday but I did appreciate it nonetheless). The day was spent with family, barbqueing and rolling around in dirt. The day ended with a drunk man peeing across from me on the LIRR, literally like 2 feet away from me. (And no, it wasn’t Craig.) Sometimes you just have to laugh because you don’t know what else to do.
But right now I’m just really happy. I’m thankful everyday that I’m a mother, but I’m most thankful that the day is over! Happy May to all!