I have a confession to make. I dread Mother’s Day. I have spent the last few Mother’s days with my mom, just the two of us, and that has been great. But the part with my actual kids, kinda stink. Don’t get me wrong, I love my children. I actually blame their father. To him, celebrations like this are just not important. He would be quite happy if I didn’t do anything for him for Father’s day or his birthday. It would make no difference what so ever. I do not feel the same way. I would like a giant fuss. I want presents and fancy meals. Even if I ask for it, it doesn’t always happen.
Part of it is my own doing of course. Years ago we spread my daughter’s ashes on Mother’s day – bad idea. It will forever be in my mind on Mother’s day that I never really held her close, and that I chose that day for the final good-bye. There have been Mother’s days where I broke down in tears at church from the overwhelming wave of feelings that swept over me.
Motherhood definitely changes as your children get older. No longer do you get handmade crafts from school with handprints and pictures. There is no drive for them to do anything special for me, and there is no role model to prompt them to do so. No small child throwing their arms around your neck and snuggling. No small gestures. I miss it. I can ask, but sometimes I don’t want to. I want it to come from them and not just because I am asking for it.
I admit that I am feeling rather taken for granted even prior to Mother’s Day and I am dreading the hurt that I anticipate arriving on Sunday morning when there is nothing for me. In the last few weeks, my daughter has only spoken to me when she wants food or laundry done. A package of toilet paper has been sitting in the middle of the bathroom floor for almost a week, as test to see how long it takes someone else to put it away. No one else volunteers to make meals, no one else picks up groceries, no one else notices when kids need clothes or shoes. You know, the usual mom’s lament.
So I am open to suggestions. How do I make this better? Do I have the flip out? Or do I just give my kids money and take them to the mall and tell them to go and get me something. I have been not so subtly reminding my husband. Does anyone else feel like these days never live up to their expectations? Do I just need to suck it up and accept my family the way they are?