Skip to main content

A Mother's Day Rant of Sorts

A few days ago, Hubbs asked me what I wanted for Mother's Day. He is a very generous husband, and I knew I would pretty much get whatever I asked for. Lucky for him, I'm also mostly a reasonable wife, so it wasn't like I was going to demand a 5-figure sparkler or some other frivolous purchase.

At first I didn't know what to ask for. Then I told him that what I wanted was to have time to myself. Time to shower (or take an indulgent bubble bath), time to go potty without an audience, an opportunity to nap or blog or do some other self-indulgent thing that wasn't for the benefit of our family. For Mother's Day, I was basically asking to not be a mommy for a few hours, or maybe even most of the day.

My silly mini and I at the end of brunch today

And true to form, he has blessed me with this gift. He got up early this morning to shower so that he would be ready to watch Little L from the moment she was up. He took her to the "pond" while I took my sweet ass time getting ready. Then we went to a fancy schmancy brunch together as a family, an annual tradition that began when Little L was just a few months old; he watched her while I loaded up my plates and ate first. After feasting, we headed home and I went to take a carb-and-sugar-induced nap while Hubbs played dominoes with our little girl (who was hopped up on sugar from the brunch). When I awoke from my slumber, they had already driven off on another daddy-daughter adventure to the Oval (and then the playground).

I won't probably see them again for a couple of hours.

And I totally regret asking for this gift.

You might think I'm insane. You might only dream of having a full afternoon to yourself to do whatever you wanted. I thought I would want this, too, and on a regular day, maybe I would. However, it's Mother's day. The reason for the day is to celebrate women, and that which makes them a mother. In my case, this would include my Hubbs and my darling girl. They are the reason I get to be called a mommy, and yet here I am, wishing to do the very least motherly thing possible: indulge myself and not be a mommy for a while. On Mother's day. Isn't that ironic?

Besides, how can I ever really not be a mommy? It's a ridiculous notion. Once you are a mommy, you're forever, 24x7, a mommy. You worry like a mom, you dote like a mom, you think like a mom, you protect like a mom. It becomes who you are, and is woven into the very fibre of your heart. Even though the duties of a mom change through the seasons of life, or manifest in different ways depending on circumstance, the essence of motherhood remains the same: you love another little being that you have been entrusted with, more than you love yourself.

And so it is with me. No matter how much alone time I get (courtesy of Hubbs, or the nanny, or whomever), I will never truly have time to myself that isn't in some way interrupted, either physically or mentally, with my concern and love for Little L.

Maybe I'm over-thinking this, and goodness knows I'm spending a good chunk of my "alone time" blogging about it, but Mother's Day is a bittersweet day for me. For many barren years, this was a difficult occasion, because it reminded me of my childless state and made me feel like a failure for not being able to do what "millions of women have been doing for millions of years" and have a baby. Everywhere I looked, the store displays and billboard ads and social media were littered with Mother's Day messages that made me feel like sh!t; it was pervasive and unrelenting and unavoidable. I also know that this day is hard for the mommies out there whose babies are with Jesus, and it's hard for those babies, grown or little, whose mommies are no longer around to receive the blessing of their appreciation. It's difficult for singletons who have long wished to become mommies but have never been so blessed, and it's brutal for those who never received the gift of their mommies' love and acceptance and presence in their lives.

Socially, it is an odd holiday, one that I know is intended for good and to appreciate the very underappreciated sacrifices of moms out there, everywhere. However, it is an alienating holiday, too, and for those on the other side, it can be such a painful day.

All I want for Mother's Day, I guess, is that there be no specific day set apart in May for mothers to be honoured. Instead, wouldn't it be better if we all just appreciated our moms every day, or else found gratitude in being able to be a mom, every day? And rather than divide women up into those who are and those who aren't on the second Sunday in May, couldn't we just celebrate all women on this day? Every woman who has ever loved and cared for and exercised a form of maternal affection towards a living being, human or animal, is worthy of being celebrated as a "mother" of some kind.

So happy mother's day to you. And don't even get me started on Father's Day. *insert eyeroll*


Sharon said…
Lol - I *do* think you're overthinking this a little bit but we bloggers probably tend to do such things around such times ;) Heck - i blogged about mother's day too! hahaha

And overthinking, i would say, is better than taking for granted. So you're good!

Popular posts from this blog

Gone with the FLLO - Traveling with the Clek FLLO

In previous posts, I've already detailed the awesomeness of Clek's FLLO seat, so no need for redundancy here. The true test of its greatness lies in how well it travels, since it is meant to be a "compact" and more portable version of the gargantuan FOONF.

Now, to be clear, we purchased a Clek WEELEE bag to transport our car seat on our flight to and from Maui, *and* we checked our car seat with our airline, which I know is a big CPS Tech no-no. They argue that any car seat that has been checked is as good as crashed, because the potential rough handling of the seat by the carrier compromises its integrity and could damage it internally. My experience (now that I've done it) is this:

a) The Weelee bag is very well padded and sturdy. Once I had the seat properly placed inside the bag, I felt that it was as good as any seat in a styrofoam-packaged box. The bonus, of course, is that unlike a box, the Weelee has a telescopic handle and deeply-grooved, rugged wheels, …

Outgrow. Outlast. - The Finale of Our BF Journey

To be completely honest, I almost didn't write this post. While I'm usually fairly open about my opinions and parenting choices, I've held this one pretty close to the vest in recent years, because it is a more controversial - and personal- decision than most others. Sadly, it is one that many Western mothers are also unfairly judged for, despite it being completely natural in many other parts of our world.

The choice: full-term, aka "extended," breastfeeding. Little L and I chose to continue our nursing journey beyond age 2, and 3, and even 4. In fact, we only weaned a couple of weeks ago. We had already stopped nursing in public and nursing on demand several years earlier, but it was only recently that Little L was ready to completely wean from her nighttime and early morning sessions; she had finally outgrown her need to drink from my milk. The most clear signs of this were her growing desire for "privacy" and alone time, and her "nye-nye"

An Eyeliner Switcheroo

For the past several years, I've been a very loyal Stila Stay All Day Waterproof Eye Liner fan. I mean, I use the stuff every single day, and I like to do dramatic wings on my eyes, so I need a quality eyeliner that is high pigment, won't smear, and has an amazing fine-tipped brush that will let me draw my eyeliner wings to a very long, dramatic tip. My standards are exacting when it comes to liquid liner. 

That said, my wallet hates me for it. Those amazing liners cost $30 a pop, and they only last a couple of months at the rate that I use them. 
So, as any responsible adult tries to do, I've attempted to save money and find a cheaper alternative. I've used all sorts of liners sent by IPSY, or bought at my local drugstore. Unfortunately, every attempt I've made has resulted in great regret. The brush applicator was too wide or too short. The eyeliner smudged too easily. The pigment wasn't dark enough. You get the idea.
However, I think I've finally found m…