A Mother’s Day Post

Heya–

I always regard Mother’s Day with such mixed emotions.

On the one hand, it’s great to have a reason to do pretty much nothing while my family makes a big deal out of me.

On the other  hand, especially when our grandmothers were alive, between grandmothers, stepmothers, and moms in general, we pretty much subsidized Hallmark.

On the one hand, it’s great to have a reason to get together with family.

On the other hand, I sort of want to spend the day loafing, and, especially when we used to try to hit everybody, loafing was not in the cards.

In recent times, especially as I’ve gotten older, and a little more selfish, I’ve been a little more assertive about saying, “Yanno… this is my day.  Mine.  Imma go out to dinner with my family and make a bunch of phone calls.”

This time, we actually asked my stepmom out to lunch, and my dad decided he wanted to do one better, and make us lunch.

My stepmom, exhausted from planning Wendy’s wedding, was like, “Whatever.  I really just want an excuse to do nothing.  I would really like to sit.”

I’ve got my own fish to fry– and bringing my family to said wedding was part of that, and getting ready for RT was another part, and a reluctant chance to rest after Oregon was another.  So, yeah. Sitting?  Doing not much?  I’m all for it.

But I feel a little guilty.  I’m leaving my husband home again on Tuesday, with the kids and the house and the animals, and although he does a wonderful job… I’m leaving him.  It’s like, “How do I get mother’s day when he’s doing both our jobs?”

But he insists.

I vote that for Father’s Day he gets to do anything he wants to do on the planet.  Anything.  Hell– I’ll go off planet.  Golfing on Venus?  A Martian brothel?  It’s his.  I seriously learn how to be a better mother from my children’s father– he’s kind, he’s responsible, he’s funny.

And he’s giving me my own day.

I hope I deserve it.

Happy mother’s day to everybody– mothers of children or friends or fur babies or ficus-es .  May you have a friend, a helper, a mate of some sort (even a sister or a mother of your own) to assist you in your endeavor.  May your babies (of all sorts) be grateful and kind, and may your helpmates give you solace when things get too hard.  May you be remembered for your good points and forgiven for the rest, and may your failures make your spawn laugh, and may you be able to laugh at them too.  May you spend this day how you wish– asleep, awake, in company or alone–and may cleaning the kitchen or not cleaning the kitchen be irrelevant to your happiness as it stands.

May you know joy.

(Speaking of joy, Chicken sent me this video after I published, so I edited to put this in.  I adore it fiercely.  Best handmade card ever.)