I’ve never made a big deal about Mother’s Day.
The kids are all in middle school now, so there weren’t going to be any school-made Mother’s Day gifts coming home from school.
I didn’t mention anything about it to the kids. I didn’t have any expectations. I’m not into forcing them to do something for me and I also wasn’t testing them.
I figured if anyone remembered it would be nice, but if they forgot I totally understood. I mean, they are kids.
Ten years ago I’d get annoyed by this. It bothered me that my family didn’t really do anything special for me.
I’d make passive aggressive comments and roll my eyes. I’d drop hints.
But I never just came out and asked for what I wanted which is what I should have done.
As the years passed I just kind of got over it. Mother’s Day didn’t matter.
Because ultimately the only thing I wanted was to know I was appreciated all the time and not just on one Sunday in May every year.
I’ve learned a few things since becoming a mother and over the course of my marriage and divorce.
Nobody is going to read your mind.
Whether it’s Mother’s Day or not, I’ve learned if I want something I need to be specific, be clear, and ask for what I want.
If your husband isn’t big into holidays, he’s not going to be big into Mother’s Day either. He’s not going to all of a sudden be the Duke of Surprises once you birth a kid.
He’s not going to morph into some gift-giving, surprise-planning, party-throwing extraordinaire just because he married and impregnated you.
Being cryptic and testing family members will succeed in doing one thing: pissing you off.
If you have Mother’s Day expectations and you want them to be met, you gotta tell everyone involved exactly what you want.
And if you want all that shit to be a surprise, well, sorry. You’re fucked.
Instead, you can do what I’ve learned to do.
If you are tired and need a day off, take a day off.
If you want flowers, buy yourself flowers.
If you want a weekend in a hotel, book a weekend in a hotel.
If you want someone to clean the whole house and you want it done well, don’t wait for your husband and kids who hardly ever clean anything at all and definitely don’t clean the way you would to make the house sparkly clean.
Book a dang cleaning service yourself.
You’ve earned it.
I didn’t want anything this year for Mother’s Day. I had no expectations.
Okay that’s not true… I wanted one thing… I really just wanted to be left alone. And I wanted to sleep in.
I woke up at 5:30 a.m. and I couldn’t get back to sleep.
I decided to come down to my office and catch up on some stuff while it was quiet.
I had work I needed to do anyway, so I’d get it done before the kids woke up.
Number 5, my 12-year-old was up first a little after 7:00.
She came into my office where I was sitting at the computer and, just like she does every morning, she gave me a hug.
Then she went into the family room and turned on the TV.
About five minutes later I heard her yell OH MY GOD from the other room.
She came bursting into my office.
HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!!!!
She gave me another hug and then she went right into the kitchen.
I heard cabinet doors opening and closing and shit banging around.
About 20 minutes later, this was delivered into my office:
“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO SLEEP IN SO I COULD GIVE THIS TO YOU IN BED,” she scolded.
I had also woken up on Mother’s Day vowing this was the day I was gonna start backing off on the carbs but I couldn’t not eat a perfectly good bagel made with love from my tween, now could I?
Plus I was really happy someone was taking care of me.
I ate all my food like a good mommy.
As Number 5 was cooking me breakfast, Number 6 snuck into my office as stealthily as he could while I was sitting right there and he grabbed a few of my pens.
About 20 minutes later, he gave me this:
He knows what Mom likes.
As soon as Number 5 finished making breakfast Number 7 went to work in the kitchen.
She cleaned EVERYTHING. The kitchen was spotless.
Well done, Number 7.
She also knows what Mom likes.
At 9:51 a.m. I received this text from Number 4 (she’s away at school):
I mean, at least she remembered. 😂
Last and DEFINITELY not least, Number 3 walked into my office.
He had his hands behind his back.
He gave me a picture frame and a candle (2 things I love).
I’m pretty sure my mom and his girlfriend gave him a few you-better-get-something-for-your-mom nudges, but I was really happy to receive something from my almost-17-year-old son. I didn’t care how it happened.
He handed me these gifts and a card about 2 minutes before he left for work.
I was instructed to wait until he had left to open the card.
It was heartfelt and sweet and he wrote so much that he ran out of room.
It was honestly one of the nicest cards anyone has ever given me.
I cried, obviously.
That card meant more to me than probably anything else I’ve ever received.
And what I learned was that my kids get it. They appreciate me and everything (well, most things anyway) that I do for them.
It was a really nice Mother’s Day morning.
Mother’s Day usually includes attending some sort of sporting event and this year was no exception. At 1:00 that afternoon Number 7 had a soccer game.
The game was about 35 minutes away from our house.
I drank too much coffee and already had to go to the bathroom when we got there, but I wasn’t at emergency levels yet.
There was a porta potty at the field. Number 5 and I made a pit stop there before dragging our chairs over to the sidelines of the soccer field.
There was a line of two people waiting – Number 5 and me.
A man exited the porta potty and said, “it’s male only at this point” to Number 5 who was standing in front of me.
She wasn’t sure what he meant.
She walked into the porta potty and then .18 seconds later she walked out.
There was shit smeared all over the toilet seat.
We decided we’d hold it for the first half and then figure it out at halftime.
By halftime we were struggling.
We ran to the car and drove to the closest gas station about 5 minutes away.
There was a big sign on the restroom door that said
OUT OF ORDER.
We got back in the car.
The game was in a small town that only had that one gas station nearby and no other convnenience stores or anything that were close.
Now we were definitely missing part of the game and Number 5 was starting to freak out about getting back to the field but I was starting to freak out about peeing in my pants.
A few minutes later we found a Dollar General and ran inside.
They actually had a public restroom there.
It had a sign on it, too.
OUT OF ORDER.
There was also an EMPLOYEE ONLY bathroom right next to the public one.
There were four employees at the front of the store and ZERO customers in the store.
I was at like Level 10 Pee Emergency.
I was about to just run into the employee bathroom when one of the guys working there started walking toward us.
“We’ve been driving all over and haven’t been able to find a bathroom and I’m missing my daughter’s soccer game right now. Can I PLEASE just quickly use your bathroom?” I asked him.
The four employees all looked at each other and then looked at me and the Main Asshole simply said, “Sorry.”
I was actully crossing my legs and doing the pee pee dance in front of him.
What the fuck.
I turned around to leave the store with Number 5, both of us visibly annoyed.
As we exited the store, the Main Asshole yelled, “HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!!!”
Now you know why he earned the title of Main Asshole.
So now it was like 10 minutes into the second half of Number 7’s game and we were more than five minutes from the field.
Number 5 decided she could wait and hold it.
I, on the other hand, could not.
I told her I was going to pee in my coffee cup in the car.
She told me I couldn’t do that while she was in the car.
I reminded her it was Mother’s Day.
She reminded me she didn’t care.
So we sped back to the soccer field.
Number 5 sprinted out of the car back over to the game.
I sprinted into the back seat and filled my Contigo coffee cup to the rim, wiped my ass with the SpongeBob comforter that was in the back seat, poured my cup full-o-peepee in the parking lot, and headed back to the game in time to see Number 7 score the only goal for her team that day.
And that’s the story of Mother’s Day 2022.