Lie #7: I love Mother's Day....

For as long as she can remember she had made her mother a special card for mothers day. The earliest versions were whatever she was instructed to make at school, later on progressing into dramatic poems in floral embossed picture frames. There was the upside down MOM/WOW card and then of course, the M-O-M card where each letter had a significant phrase that started with said letter. Whatever the design, it was always made with love and she often wondered if that was enough to show her sentiment....

                                                                          

I am now a proud mother of three and I realize that each little crooked letter I wrote on each one of my homemade cards was cherished and received with love. 


That said, I must admit that while the idea is sentimental and sweet....I hate Mother's Day! Why? Because I find it obsurd that only one day a year is set aside to pay homage to the hardest job on earth. I find it rediculous that a card or a peice of sale priced jewelry is suppose to invigorate my zest of motherhood or somehow make me feel like all the shit I deal with is suddenly worth it all! 


Do I love my children? More then life itself! Do I love being a mother? Sometimes not so much...I don't look at my children nightly and think, what sweet beautiful angels they are as they lie sleeping in their beds...most of the time I'm just proud that we got through the day and made it into bed. Do I love that 20 feet of white kitchen cabinet doors need constantly wiped down from peanut butter and Cheeto finger smears? How I wish they made colorless food products like colorless Kool-aid! Do I love the fact that I haven't slept a peaceful night of sleep in ten years, the slightest sound rousing me from ever getting into a deep relaxing REM stage? Of course not!


 Before you give up all hope and think I'm the worst Mom ever, let me let you in on some things I do love about motherhood.


I loved actual labor! Yep, it's the one hippy dippy thing about me. I love giving birth to babies without drugs and with lots of pain! And no, I am not on drugs as I write this! Of course, I'm the lady that has a special pedicure done a week before my due date to make sure that my toes look cute, as if anyone is going to be looking at my toes! LOL


If I would stop smoking, I would be a great surrogate since I loved every moment of being pregnant. Luckily I was not cursed with morning sickness or heartburn....don't hate me ladies....


I love the sweet smell of a breast fed baby. I love the first tentative steps, the first high pitched words that I quickly translate into whatever is fitting of the situation to make that child seem like a genius! I love seeing the expression on their faces the first time they try a food that they simply love or the funny grimace when they try a food they will live a lifetime hating.... I love listening to children read aloud the first time it "clicks" and how proud they look as they are reading to me. I love crayon drawings and homemade paper bag puppets. I love teaching them how to ride a two wheeler, letting go and watching them triumphantly glide down the sidewalk. I love the chaotic drug like excitement the first Christmas that they realize just what all the fuss about Santa is about! I don't even mind waking up extra early. I love the feel of their arms around me when they are scared or sad, knowing that it is my own arms around them that brings them peace and protection. These are just some of the things I love about Motherhood....there are too many to list...most of them boring or predictable besides...


It is a couple days past Mother's Day and while I had originally meant to write and post this on Mother's Day, obviously being a mother got in the way and thus I finish this entry a little later then I had planned. But the sentiment is still the same.


I spent my Hallmark Card Holiday with the kids, at the park and bowling after a brunch extravaganza prepared by yours truly. As a newly single mom, I am learning that sometimes the best thing I can do is to "beep my own horn," and congratulate myself on all I accomplish on my own and recently I have realized that I don't need a special day to do this. 


In fact, I say "fuck ONE single day" to commemorate all that I do. I am head chef, maid service, chauffeur, nanny, and nurse rolled into one. I will celebrate every day! Sometimes with the luxury of a shower all to myself, no little ones sitting at my feet in the bathtub. Someday's my celebration ise eating a whole sleeve of double stuffed Oreo's in one sitting while watching a chick flick! Sometimes I celebrate by shopping online in the quietness of darkness at midnight with the soft murmurs of children snoring as a lullaby. Sometimes I  celebrate out loud with my girlfriends and a bottle of cheap chick wine! No matter how and when or where, I celebrate myself and my blessed role as Mommy!


I  celebrate the amazing calm  voice of Skater Girl and how she reminds to breathe when things get overwhelming. I  celebrate the way Hoots "kicks ass" at Guitar Hero with childlike abandon and how she reminds me of the adventurous joy of childhood. I  celebrate the shy quite smirk of MarthaStew, knowing that it hides a "naughty" Smart Aleck remark that together we think in tandem like long lost twins. I celebrate Sexy Spice's outrageous zest for all things Sexy and Spicy...her say it how it is candor allowing me to share all that I am without fear of judgement or repercussion.


I hope that one day my children will realize just what an truly awesome Mom they have. Luckily they are too young to decipher the fear that plagues me half the time, as I try my best to play referee to the ups and downs of life and raising them. Sometimes I worry that I am too lenient with everything from how much tv time to the almost free reign of our famous snack drawer in the kitchen. Should I make them eat eggs and cereal for breakfast,  or is it okay to have cold pizza occasionally on a lazy Saturday morning? I don't know all the rules and regulations and even some that I do know, I rebel against...my own childish desires overcoming my mothering instincts! I am not perfect, nor do I want to be, nor do I want to burden my children with a life that doesn't embrace celebration now and again. Because that is what they bring to my life, a physical celebration of unconditional love!