Mother’s Day: You’ve already screwed up.
And it’s only the Saturday night before.
What you don’t realize is that she expects a Mother’s Day weekend. A husband sneaking off to the grocery store on Sunday morning to buy some last minute wilted chrysanthemums dyed in blue, yellow, and neon pink is not her definition of Cherished or Seeing What She Does For This Family.
There is no way to win.
Thank goodness for teachers. It’s the elementary school teacher making Mother’s Day happen one crepe paper flower at a time. Every jar of “Reasons I love you mom” is filled with ideas fed to your child from a teacher.
My own child was walking up the driveway on Friday hiding a bag behind her back, declaring “Close your eyes” and “Don’t look” instead of the usual after school greeting of “Hi, I have to pee so bad.”
So Mother’s Day. Good luck with all that.
If you are NOT a mother, you will feel ambushed by expectations. If you ARE a mother, you will have been setting yourself up for disappointment since Wednesday.
I received the “What do you want?” for Mother’s Day.
Thanks. That’s exactly what I want. A variation of “What’s for dinner?”
I don’t know. Except I do know. I don’t want to have to add this expectation laden day to the mental load. That’s what I want. Yippee for me. How do you wrap it?
Some of us will be dragging our family to church on Mother’s Day. Others will be sitting through an agonizing long brunch with relatives who lack imagination. Mother’s Day brunch. I can guaran-friggin-tee you that nobody wants to be there, but the alternative is to add to a mother’s mental load, so quiche it is. Who is picking up the bill?
This Mother’s Day I will be opening whatever waltzed up the driveway on Friday and giving the evil eye to anyone who dares ask me what I want. Then I will go to the garden and pull weeds.
I would rather eat a glass of water for dinner than think about what to make.
Keep that in mind, y'all. Just a heads up. Tomorrow… ain’t no way to win.
While we’re here, the May Cottage Letter includes a super fun sticker. It was my present to self. It’s even perforated on the edges like a real stamp. Self is so good at giving to self!
