When Mother’s Day Isn’t All You Hoped It Would Be

When Mother’s Day wasn’t all you hoped it would be

When the kids run into the room shouting, “Daddy!” on Mother’s Day morning,
Or they cry because he has to go to work and they have to stay home with you,
When there is no end to the amount of laundry that must be done, by you, (because no one in your house is tall enough, or smart enough to work the super advanced version of the no-name washer and dryer you bought off Craigslist),
When the children don’t realize that “mommy’s going potty” isn’t an invitation to join you in the bathroom, and it’s more likely that your “workout” meant picking up crying kids all day rather than going out to a Crossfit class by yourself and then grabbing Starbucks on the way home,
When you still have to prepare meals, clean up those meals, change diapers, clean bodies, make lunches for school the next day, answer emails and prep for work meetings,
When there is a full sink of dishes waving at you the next morning because you were too exhausted to finish them Sunday night, and Monday arrives with carpool duty, budget meetings or deadlines at work,
If you spent the day dreaming about going to the spa while running around in your “mom uniform” (aka yoga pants and a shirt that you probably slept in the night before), know that you are not alone.
You are not crazy for waking up and wanting just a few hours to yourself (totally, completely, alone).
You are not weird for thinking that Mother’s Day should mean not having to prepare meals or do house chores (but it does, sorry).
You are not alone in desiring peace and quiet, a lack of sibling squabbles, and rest from the constant go-go-go of activity and chaperoning.
You are not strange for thinking that a nap and a long, hot (uninterrupted) shower sounds like a luxury.
You are not odd for crying over babies that never were, red tape that is keeping your children in another place, or over your own mother who has passed on.

You are allowed to be weary and worn, battered and lonely. You are free to say “enough” and “I need help”. You are so many things to so many people, and on Mother’s Day, there is often great expectations with not-quite-enough appreciation for all that you do (because most of those you serve don’t even know all that you do). But one day, they will.

Your daughters will one day birth their own babies, and chances are their children will drive them just as crazy. They will come running back to you looking for help and advice and asylum. Try not to laugh in their faces (because that’s just rude), and enjoy that season of life.
Your sons will leave the house one day and will appreciate your cooking and laundering skills. They will also, timidly, bring home a girl that they desperately want your approval of.
Your husband, bless him, already loves you and wants to give you the world, but he’s a man and he has trouble knowing just how to express it the best way sometimes. Give him some slack (like you don’t already) and gracefully accept whatever plans and gifts he prepared for you.
Mother’s Day will come again, friend. 365 days from now.
And today is the perfect day to start dropping hints for next year.