It’s been a week since it was mother’s day. It’s taken me a week to sort through my thoughts and feelings on MY experience on the day…
For seven years Mother’s day was a day that brought me much angst, heartache and a sense of failure that threatened to cripple me. While I loved being able to celebrate my own mother and mother in law, it was a day I dreaded more and more with each passing year of infertility. It represented something that at the time excluded me. For not being able to do something that *should* have been the most natural thing in the world.
In 2010 by God’s grace we finally conceived. I was so excited to know that once my son was born I would no longer have to look to mother’s day with trepidation in my heart. That seeing all the mom’s being honored in church would not pierce my heart any longer because I too would be standing proud. In 2011 I missed mother’s day as Kade was only born in June but my baby shower was hosted on Mother’s day so in a way I had the best party ever given to a mother on mother’s day. That has been my best mother’s day so far.
Come 2012 I was literally bursting with excitement at finally, finally being in the place in my life where mother’s day would be about me as well instead of being about me doing something special for my mom and mother in law. It did not go well. I had expected that my man would remember the tears and desperation of previous mother’s day and that he would do something amazing for me. I was wrong. I was highly upset and hugely disappointed. In 2013 things were slightly improved. Mostly because I arranged a family get together for the day and basically sorted out my own mother’s day. I was again disappointed.
Cue this past mother’s day. I had stupidly agreed that my husband could go cycling with his brother on Sunday morning. In my defense I agreed before I realised it was mother’s day. As a result of this, my day started at 05h30 with both children needing my attention. I cared for my babies on my own on mother’s day for several hours, making breakfasts, feeding bottles, wiping noses, getting baby to have a nap, cleaning the kitchen, washing & sterilising bottles all the while entertaining a demanding nearly 3 year old.
By the time hubby got home I had just managed to squeak a shower in and was ready for a little bit of a break and a pampering. Maybe expecting a gift of some sort. I got neither as he jumped into the shower after his ride and the baby woke up from her nap. My mom and sister came to visit after serving at kids church and we had coffee and I gave my mom her gift from us. Through the day Cliff kept on saying your gift is on its way, it just needs to be delivered and I found myself getting more and more annoyed. Long story short he had ordered a gift online and had set delivery for the 12th May. The day after Mothers day. He said it was a mistake and on the actual day I was so angry and hurt that I didn’t want to believe him. (In fact I kind of still don’t, I have my reasons for this but don’t want to stir up another can of worms) I couldn’t believe he had messed up a third mothers day in a row. After all the fighting and shouting of the last two years, it was STILL a stuff up.
We ended up having a massive barney about it all. A really unpleasant, shouty, angrily tearful fight.
I asked how he would feel if I had stuffed up his Father’s day and he honestly said it would not mater to him at all. I was so prepared to just stuff up his father’s day this year and test him on it. I was really angry and totally fed up. I then decided that considering I had got both children to sleep at the same time that I would give myself an afternoon nap. Well. THAT didn’t happen either. Kade woke up just as I was drifting off and he wanted me and was crying snot en trane for me so all I could hear was Cliff was shouting at him that I was sleeping and… I got up and took care of my child.
I’ve been thinking a LOT about why this is such a sore point for me. It’s just a day right? It’s not like he messed up my anniversary (to the contrary I was SUPER spoilt) or my birthday or God forbid Christmas. But I keep coming back to the fact that it is important to me. I would like to be made a fuss of. I would like to be shown that on this day I am appreciated as a mother. I want a little bit of effort put in. I want a badly made breakfast in bed after I’ve been allowed to sleep in. I want a small gift that is in line with my interests (it doesn’t have to cost a lot, a kindle book will suffice!) I want to get my gift ON MOTHERS DAY not the day after. I want to feel like I was not an after thought.
Logically I know I sound like a complete spoilt BRAT. I know what matters most is that I finally have TWO wonderful, gorgeous children and that they are the real gift. I know that it shouldn’t matter so much because Cliff is the best father ever. He helps DAILY with the children, he is a very present father and partner and we share the load evenly.
But my heart wants that special day. That all elusive mother’s day where even if I don’t get to stop caring for my kids, I get to feel like I did because a small measure of effort was made.
Do you think I’m over reacting? What are your thoughts on mother’s day?