Mother’s Day! It’s just about here! Shoot me now!
Posted on May 9th, 2012
Last year I posted about Mother’s Day and why I hate it. I still haven’t spoken to my mother and that is still fine. It’s for the best. I have a daughter who loves me and I will celebrate — somehow.
I am happy for all of you who had great mothers and who get to enjoy a very special day with them on Sunday. I am sorry for all of you who had great mothers and who are mourning their loss.
But the envy I feel for you is a knife in my chest. I keep looking down, expecting to see the hilt. I don’t like envy. And since I rage much better than I envy, I’ll just focus on hating the holiday.
I do hope the rest of you will join me on the third Sunday in July, when I’ll be celebrating the second annual Children of Drunk Narcissists Day! Woo-hoo! Now that’s a holiday I can get behind.
Why not co-opt the day as your own day? I mean, I have a mom who’s cool and Tedd’s mom is cool but they’re both far, far away so Mother’s Day is typically about me because I’m the only mother around here. And I think this year I want to spend it doing projects around the house, which makes me sound like my dad on Father’s Day.
I’ve done that in the past. For various unbloggable/facebookable/tweetable reasons, it’s not much of an option. I’m a hormonal pile of goo wrapped nicely in a handbasket headed for hell. Emotionally speaking, anyway.
I’ve only been reading your blog for a few months, so I appreciate your links to help fill a “newbie” in. Just wanted to say I’m sorry Mother’s Day is hard for you. While I can’t relate to having a mother like yours, you described my late grandmother to a T. And I want to thank you for sharing, because from the comments I’ve read on those linked posts and how I know my mom feels about my grandmother, obviously your feelings ring true and people are comforted to know they aren’t alone. In fact, I’m emailing your “Children of Drunk Narcissists Day” post to my mom after I finish this note to you. I’m sure she will love it and appreciate that someone in this world “gets it.” (Ex: The day before my mom got married, as she was packing, my grandmother bitterly cried out to her, “How can you do this to me? How can you leave me?”)
Anyway, just a thank you for being brave and cool and not caring about keeping up niceties for niceties sake. I’ve found it’s over-rated. Now just waiting until I have the nerve in a few cases/people. (If you’ve read about my FIL or YY on my blog.)
Oh, and your statement above about being “a hormonal pile of goo wrapped nicely in a handbasket headed for hell”? Thank you, just…thank you. You’re a fantastic wordsmith. I mean, I’m sorry you’re upset and I hope you feel better soon. But just thankful for your word picture of how I feel so many days, holidays or not.
Your mom sounds like a rock star for having come through her childhood and not perpetuated the cycle. If she has any tips, I would love to hear them!
Also, re: wordsmithing: thank you. I blushed. But I am sorry you understand the sentiment!
So with you. I felt some inexplicable obligation to do something for my mother, so I put in the least amount of effort humanly possible to pick up a gift card at the grocery store.
The hardest part was finding a non-mushy card to stick it in.
She’s never happy with anything I do, but at least she can’t bitch to the rest of the world about how she was ignored.
The cards are the worst! It takes forever to find one that isn’t too mushy.
LC, you’ve done one hell of a job this year with your mom: I hope you get the five-star treatment this Sunday, that you get to really pamper yourself. I don’t know how you managed it all, but my goodness, I’m impressed.
Aww, thanks AAL. At least my mom wasn’t a drunk, so there’s that. I hope that you can find some bit of enjoyment in the being the mom part of Mother’s Day. That will probably come more when Pea is a bit older.
But I do understand the dread of it all. (And our dread is complicated by the fact that my beloved MIL is no longer with us, so it’s a hurtful day for DH, too.)