This past week, a realization hit me like a ton of bricks.
I don't like Mother's Day.
It makes me irritable.
All the flowery cards. Each one having a poem about how wonderful their mother is and how sweet and gentle she is and how they couldn't live without her.
It irritates me.
And quite frankly, makes me feel guilty.
Anyone who knows me knows that I am a far cry from sweet and gentle. Oh, I snuggle my kids and hug and kiss them, but I am usually a pretty tough mom.
And the flowery cards and poems and girlie stuff on Mother's Day makes me feel guilty that I'm not that calm.sweet.gentle.loving.patient mom.
That's what I thought irritated me about Mother's Day.
But tonight it smacked me in the face.
Those mushy cards don't bother me as much as I thought they did.
Its my kids. My amazing.wonderful.crazybutsweet.kids.
How upset they get that they can't get me anything.
I tell them to just write me a note.
To just be good.
But they want to get me something and feel horrible that they can't.
I honestly prefer the notes. They are so precious and make me laugh.
Laugh right out loud.
But tonight something happened that made me realize why I don't like Mother's Day.
The kids had a few dollars and wanted to get me something.
So I quick took them to Rite Aid.
I told them to just each get me a pack of gum. I have a serious love/addiction to gum so I would honestly rather get gum and a love note than anything else.
I let them go in alone so I couldn't see exactly what they were getting.
I waited a few minutes and then went in after them.
I told them to hurry up so we could get home and out of the glares of the cashiers.
The two littles paid for their packs of gum and headed out with me.
Riley had a card hidden behind his back (so I couldn't see) while he waited in line.
A few minutes later he came out.
Not loud crying. But the silent kind, with tears slowly streaming and that look of deep, deep pain on his face.
He said he had something else for me, but he didn't have enough money.
He hadn't been able to find the price for the card, and that since it was just paper he figured it was only a dollar.
So he had picked something else out for me.
But the card rang up almost $4 and then with the other thing he was surprising me with he didn't have enough money.
He said he was so scared, but told the cashier.
She got really upset with him and was sighing and glaring at him while she took the extra gift off the total.
He paid for the card and walked out.
That's when he came out to the car in tears.
He said choking, "All I wanted was to get you a little something as a surprise. But I couldn't"
He told me what happened.
And I hated Mother's Day a little bit more.
I slipped him my Paypal card and told him to go back in and get it. That he could work it off when he got home because it wouldn't be fair that the other kids used their money. (This part about killed me, but I needed to be fair.)
THAT is why I cannot stand Mother's Day.
Because my kids feel obligated to get me something. They don't want me to feel left out from all the other moms and unloved.
But in the process, there are mean spirited people who crush them even more. It was pretty obvious Riley was just a little boy trying to get his mom something for Mother's Day. His card was a Mother's Day card.
It irritates me that society has built Mother's Day up into a day of showing our mom's we love them by the size of the gift and the amount we spent. Not by the size of the hug we give them.
I dread the day.
I'll hear "Happy Mother's Day" and inside the guilt of how I am struggling will eat at me.
I'm weary of doing this parenting thing alone.
We are battling pre-puberty right now and working through some anger issues.
It is mentally and physically exhausting and I am afraid I'm failing.
We have so many talks. We work on respect. Every night is a battle of some kind.
I feel like I am fighting a losing battle. I'm doing my best, but I'm so afraid my best isn't good enough.
I am seeing huge improvements from a few months ago, but I'm getting worn out. And I still have years ahead of me.
And tomorrow it will feel like the world is mocking me.
No, I'm not the mushy, gushy, calm, sweet, and mild mother that is so often portrayed on Mother's Day.
Instead I'm tough, funny, mildly sarcastic, and can wrestle a boy to the ground if he needs it.
I'll probably offend someone with this post. And that is not my intent.
It just helps to get things out through writing.
And if you see me tomorrow, don't wish me Happy Mother's Day.
Just pat me on the back and tell me you love me.
And wait until Father's Day.
Feel free to tell me Happy Father's Day :-)
That's more my speed.