We’ve come a long way.
Do you remember what I was like when you were holding my new baby boy, your first grandson in this photo? You said it was as if a light suddenly went out in my eyes. That I looked like a ghost of my former self.
You also told me you would never let me stay that way. You said that one day my son would be my little buddy. You answered your phone every morning when I called you as I was walking circles around the neighborhood ugly crying to you that I would never get better. You promised me I would.
For Mother’s Day, I want to say, “Thank You.”
I’m not going to lie, I like occasions that celebrate me. I like birthdays. I like attention. I love presents, especially ones that I can wear. I’m not ashamed and I believe it’s okay to like all the above because I also love to celebrate others and see their faces when you give them gifts or experiences that mean something. So it’s a given that I would welcome Mother’s Day, now that I’m mom. Another day to be recognized and maybe receive some cards, flowers, and even a gift or two for doing the hardest, most rewarding job in the entire world? Count me in!
Some people might call Mother’s Day just another Hallmark holiday like Valentines Day. I’m guessing these people probably don’t have children. In my professional mommy opinion, moms should be celebrated everyday. Hello! Moms have to do really tough shit like pushing tiny humans out of their vaginas. And if that doesn’t work, we have to let doctors cut open our tummies, take out our insides, then the baby, then put our insides back in and sew us up. On top of that, out tits are now used for food and eventually deflate and sag. We get fat and kill ourselves to get thin again. Oh and sometimes our teeth shift, our hair falls out in patches, and we grow more hair in places it doesn’t belong like on our chins. So a day? Yeah, that’s the least we deserve!
Every year I look forward to Mother’s Day and every year I feel like I used to do on New Years Eve (you know the good old days before you became a parent or even part of a couple, when you got ready with girlfriends, dressed up, paid hundreds of dollars to go to a club where you wait an hour just to get a drink at the bar so you end up ordering three at a time, triple fist said drinks on the dance floor, and hope to find and kiss your soul mate at midnight–only to end up drunk and belligerent because your friend kissed the guy you were after when the ball dropped–which resulted in you drinking more, losing your wallet with your precious fake ID in it and having a major wardrobe malfunction by the end of the night.) Yeah, New Years Eve never lived up to the hype. It always disappointed but we looked forward to it each year anyway with renewed hope, a new little black dress, and amnesia about the last time.