I Hate Mother's Day

Why oh, why does this holiday have to fall during the busiest time of my husband's year as principal? It's when I feel least supported and least appreciated - just by the sheer fact that he's not around to see all the hard work I'm doing. 

The holiday sneaks up and bites me in the butt when I feel like he's asking too much, everyone's taking too much and I'm a little broken down. Even a little bitter. There, I said it. For all the world to see, on Mother's day no less. 

Now eighty percent of the time, I feel blessed to have a husband, let alone one that wants to be in the parenting mix. It feels over the top when I realize he admires what I bring to it. The month of May is not part of that eighty percent. So it smacks of irony that it happens to be the month when my family expresses their love. It feels like a measley little day when I need to book a deserted island for about a month. It feels like a lot of interaction when all I wanted was to zero out my word bank that's been running in the negative the past two months. 

Quiet.

That's all I want. 

That's all a lot of mammas I've talked to want. And Lord knows, they won't get that if they are celebrating the day WITH the people who put them in this category to begin with. Unless those children happen to be older. I can't count the number of moms who feel guilty about wanting a break from motherhood on Mother's day. Is that an okay way to feel?

Well, it may not be romantic but it's how it is when the energy guage reads below empty. I'd like to throw a weird idea out there. Maybe it doesn't mean our mother-love is impaired or lacking. Maybe it means we've been loving so fiercely we gave everything and actually need to go restock. Take a minute to feed ourselves. 

Feed our souls.

Fill up with a little beauty so we can come back beautiFUL.

Sidenote: If you're trudging under the depression cloud, you're like a bucket without a bottom. All the rest and beauty you find on a break just falls out the bottom and you don't come back refreshed. Which stinks, I know. You even feel guilty about it, but it's not your fault your bucket's lost its bottom. You're missing out on joy right now, and I'm sorry because I know how painful it is to be numb, but you didn't make the cloud and you will out-trudge the cloud. 

For all of us, it can be a confusing day with some pressure. To find it wonderful, to not have higher expectations that what our little families offer us. To feel truly, deeply appreciated. So many things make this harder, like miscarriages and rocky marriages, but I suppose we can still find some sweetness if we dig. I decided to take snapshots of my favorite moments through the day, however they came. I also took a moment to look through photos of the day my littles were born and remember how miraculous that really is. 

I've said I hated this holiday because it can never be enough. In considering what to do for my mother, it all seems pitiful in comparison to what she's given. I think that's when we can start to get okay with what our day looks like, no matter the budget or availableness of our loved ones. Even if we have to pat our own backs, we can find celebration. We don't have to wait for our families to prove to us our offering as mothers is profound. We don't have to wait for other people to help us feel special, we are special and we can celebrate our specialness all by ourselves if we decide to. 

So I bought myself a bag. 

Yes I did. 

And for a moment, I thought I needed to be sad it didn't come as a complete surprise to me in a giant box wrapped in Tiffany blue by my husband, and then I laughed. That's Hollywood, not here in real life. And that's totally okay.

Love you mammas (all nurturers - not just ones who carried someone in their wombs)!



P.S. My final shot for the day will be watching my favorite show while we fold laundry! #lovinreallife