This is the best picture I could get because there were vintage cartoons playing in the restaurant (note Elfie’s eyes).
So Mother’s Day is over, and all I can say is, thank the gods.
I know most moms look forward to Mother’s Day. Probably because they’re normal and well-adjusted people who are totally chill about spending a nice Sunday with family, getting an over-priced piece of jewelry designed by Jane Seymour, and maybe going out to brunch while wearing a macaroni necklace. But me? No, I always have to make things complicated.
On top of the fact that I’m not a big holiday/gifty person, Mother’s Day is particularly loaded. It is for anyone who no longer has a mother. And this year, there was the additional stress of it being the first Mother’s Day when my aunt is without her son. Add to that a few friends whose mothers died this year, and, well, I actually went into a bit of concentration overload. I got to the point where I had so many different people to think about and worry about and “remember” that I finally didn’t get a chance to feel anything about myself at all.
So on Mother’s Day, when you sort of should (key word “should”) be having a day that’s all about you, I was stressed out from focusing on everyone else — wondering what they needed, who I’d forgotten, and what I’d missed. And on a day when you should be taking some time to think about your own mom — even if she’s dead and, yes, that kind of sucks — I couldn’t find a quiet moment to just sit and remember her.
Worst part? By the time I did find a moment to think about her, I was too tired to do it. Which then, of course, brought up the questions of why I have to work so hard to think about her now and what does that mean and isn’t that just sad and terrible…
So me? I’m glad Sunday has come and gone. Because if every day were as “special” as Mother’s Day, I’d be positively exhausted.
Tammy Soong is a writer, wife, and mom from Reno, Nevada. She takes an absurd amount of pain medication, but not enough to have actually named her children "Newt" and "Elfie." She spends most days stressing out over clutter, writing stuff for this place, and working on podcasts with her gal pals, the Blogging Betties.
Tammy, I can’t begin to imagine that day for myself. The day when I have to remember my mom. I can’t bear it. I’m in awe and humbled that you managed to get through all of that without completely losing it. It’s not Mother’s Day. Go relax. Sending you a virtual cocktail and a hug.
Thanks my friend.
Mother’s Day was sort of weird for me this year too. It’s the first year that my kids’ dad (ex-husband) and his girlfriend have been living together. She’s not officially a step-mom, but she’s, well, essentially my kids’ step-mom. And I’m actually grateful for her presence in my children’s life. She makes their dad a better person and I take comfort knowing that she’s looking out for them. She’s also a mom of 2 slightly older kids, so she gets what motherhood is all about.
So our parenting agreement states that I get to be with my kids every mother’s day, and I do feel like I get to claim the holiday as “mine”, but when I picked the kids up, I felt this twinge of guilt like she should also be recognized on this stupid Hallmark-contrived day. I was sort of torn, like should I have the kids write her a card or something? In the end, I was too disorganized and lazy to do anything this year.
Bittersweet. As my kids say, it’s hard to share.
That is hard. And you’re a nice person. I know a lot of people in your situation who aren’t, shall we say, as appreciative of their kids’ stepmom as you are.
Sounds like you deserved your day. You’re a really good mom.
It’s complicated. For anyone who is the least bit self-aware, it’s complicated. I did manage to enjoy the day though. The team I made with my husband is truly fantastic; they sustain and exhaust me. But at least we are ok with each other. But even then, it’s complicated.
That’s funny. For anyone who’s self-aware. If you and I get anymore self-aware, we’re going to eat ourselves alive.
Weird “holiday”…too many “shoulds”. I have never liked amateur hour at the overpriced brunch places or Mom themed gifts. When the kids ask what I want, I always say “for you guys to be nice to each other…all day”…which, one year, was met with “it would be easier to buy you something.” Darn honesty.
The worst of all: this was the first Mother’s Day after my mom passed last summer. I swung between needing to do something “useful” (pruned stuff so I could see results) and needing tune out by watching favorite obscure BBC series on streaming Netflix.
It’s so hard. And I know what you mean by wanting to make the day sort of count for something. Sorry about your mom. xo
And that’s hysterical — “easier to buy you something.”
Holidays have become very complicated. I am sorry that you have had the year that you did, and that this holiday was especially hard.
I have retaliated against the holiday hype by doing what’s right for our family instead of what society tells us to do. My daughter was born on Mother’s Day; I used to feel that “sharing” the holiday with her was a drag because society told me that I was supposed to be treated like a queen on that day, and how can that happen when I am also expected to celebrate my child’s birthday to the nth degree?
That was too complicated, so instead of sitting on a chair and demanding that everyone serve me like I am expected to do, we have a big friends-and-family party on Mother’s Day and celebrate each other.
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I like that.
Happy Mother’s day Tammy. You are one of the strongest mom’s i know, so cheers to you.
Tiskaa.
Right back at you, Tiskaa.
It’s always been a strange holiday for me. Raised by my grandmother, but now taking care of my mother who has dementia, and yet… who do I celebrate for? I made it a day for me to do for the kids. I celebrate them.
They make it sound so easy. Like everyone fits into a box. I’m sure the woman who came up with it had the best of intentions. But there are way too many different families and situations.