Mother’s Day 2012
This morning, my kids decided to make me breakfast for Mother’s Day. My daughter prepared a bowl of oatmeal (at least I think that’s what it was) and my son handed me a slice of bread. They stood there staring at me with eager eyes waiting for me to finish the meal they prepared in my honor. I ate every bite and smiled and praised them for doing such a great job.
I wasn’t even hungry.
I just wanted some time to think in peace this morning.
I found the gesture ironic that, much like every day, I am forced to swallow something I don’t want or like for the sake of keeping my kids happy. Definitive motherhood.
Shortly after breakfast, my mother came by to give me a bouquet of dead flowers. I had to excuse myself after my celebratory breakfast and lovely gift to cry in peace.
Oatmeal. A slice of bread. Dead flowers. Happy Mother’s Day.
Are you starting to see the picture that I am painting for you?
I thought of my upbringing in a dysfunctional, broken family and tried to isolate the reasons why approaching holidays have filled me with dread and feelings of inadequacy for most of my life.
This is the part where I stop talking about myself. This is the part where I start talking about the big picture.
Holidays can unearth repressed emotions within some people. Feigning enthusiasm and pleasure for the sake of others is probably the most difficult part of celebrating holidays.
I'd like to take a moment to say it's okay if you're *not feeling* Mother's Day or any other holiday for that matter. Not everyone can uphold the standard of conventional living implied by greeting card marketing strategies. Not all of us are perfect. Most of us do not have perfectly constructed families and
For those of us who have lost mothers and grandmothers and find this day unbearable, Fuck Mother’s Day.
For those of us who are dealing with broken homes (due to divorce or poor choices in choosing a mate) and feeling the weight of this day and not sure why, Fuck Mother’s Day.
For those of us who have buried children, Fuck Mother’s Day.
For those of us who have endured an abusive or absentee mother, Fuck Mother’s Day.
For those of us that feel like our kids are more burdensome than we’d ever care to admit to ourselves, let alone out loud, Fuck Mother’s Day.
For all of those picture perfect families walking around with smiles and honoring their matriarch on this day…Happy Mother’s Day.
For those that can’t conceive and see Mother’s Day as a demarcation of ultimate failure as a woman, Fuck Mother’s Day.
Fuck Mother’s Day.
Instead, reflect on your life and how the role of motherhood has affected you as a mother, as a child, as a spouse, as a woman or as a man. Whatever. If the feelings evoked are painful, don’t be afraid to cry or scream or punch a hole through the wall.
I’m not sure how to end this. Besides, my kids are going to eventually find me. Did I mention that I had to hide behind my bed to write this? No? Well, I am… Forgive the typos in advance. I hope my words make sense.
Time to fake it 'til I make it. xoxo
Light and Love, yall. Everything is going to be alright.