Flowers, cards, chocolate, brunch, church, potted plants; these are all the things people tend to think of when they think of Mother’s Day. However, this year, I am in the middle of a true mother’s day story - not in the sense of what makes a true mother, but in the sense of what the day is actually like.
Technically, it’s Mother’s Day eve and I am sitting on the floor with coffee and water before my wine because I have been nursing a sick kiddo for the past 7 days who sounds like she is aspirating in her sleep (a real fear because she did actually throw up in the middle of our Target run today while picking out Mother’s Day cards). I have a tab open because I am googling “How to find a stud,” not because I am looking for a man but because I realized when one hangs a coat rack on the wall, one should have it anchored in some sort of way and NOT to drywall. I also have an assembled bookshelf awaiting me that needs to go in my home office….that I am sharing with said coughing, bacterial, loving, viral, and sweet child as her bedroom. It will always be referred to as her bedroom of course because she needs the stability, I only “need” the satisfaction of having a spot in this one-bedroom to call my own ;). More minor, but probably more immediate tasks are going through the stack of papers, mail, and whatnot that ALL mothers (and most other adults) have in their homes, the putting away of said Target purchases, and reading up a little on acute and critical care before I start that orientation for work on Monday.
Don’t get me wrong, I am not complaining here, far from it. I decided to take a break from my tasks and write this all out because well - this is real life, we all live it, and sometimes not only do we need to let others in but we also need to let others know that real life happens to ALL of us mothers out there and you are not alone. There are often two fears that stop us from letting people in on our secrets; 1) the fear that others will see our weaknesses and God forbid we be exposed as real people and 2) the fear that others with think we are just asking for sympathy or wallowing in a pit of self-pity. At this point in my life, I could really care less about either of those judgments to be made against me.
Due to the kiddo’s illness and the fact that we both have big school and work weeks this coming week - the brunches and what not will be forgone, we went to church tonight, I will munch on chocolate and wine while some Netflix or webinar plays and I go through “the stack,” hope a Starbucks half-price Frapp is in my future tomorrow, and I will admire the flowers I got for myself and some other moms I know today. By the way, those other moms happen to be my former fiance's ex-wife, mother, sister, and my own mother who I can only hope to see tomorrow (if not I know she will understand as she is a mother herself after all).
My point is we mothers - single, married, young, old, organized, not so much organized, mothers of lost babies (born and unborn, because y’all are still mothers), etc - ALL need to stick together. Get a little something for the mothers in your life, even in uncomfortable situations, don’t eye roll at the screaming babies in church, don’t envy those whose kids are a little older or a little younger, don’t compare yourself, your body, your kitchen to any other mothers’ out there. EMBRACE each other and the realness of what is Mother’s Day whether you are at brunch or not, flowers or not, chocolate or not, partner or not, earth child or not, birth child or not! I am here to tell you, you are not alone, if anything I see you and I see your struggles and I thank you for showing up every day to be the mother you are. <3
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