I will be honest. I have dreaded/hated/loathed Mother’s Day for many moons! After losing my mom when I was 13, I still celebrated with my Grammy but I lost her when I was 22. Then 9 years of infertility about killed me. I even made excuses for going to church because they make all the mothers stand and get a blessing while I sit there with tears streaming down my face.(Churches really should stop doing this or ask all women to stand so the non-mothers don’t feel like crap!) Finally, I got to celebrate my first Mother’s Day! You would think I had a big plan maybe mani/pedis, fancy meals, a mini vacation, the expectation of presents, etc. Alas! I had no plans. I did expect something. Perhaps I thought the heavens would open up and rain sunshine down on me. Or I would finally spot the end of a rainbow. It was not to be.
I decided to do something I don’t want to do. Something which makes me cringe. Something filling my stomach with dread. I’m did a Mommy and Me photo shoot.
Why is this so horrible for me? I hate the way I look. I can’t stand to see pictures of myself. I am filled with self-hatred for looking like a fat blob. Logically I know I workout every bloody day. I know I work hard to eat properly. I know genetics and my screwed up metabolism is partly to blame. None of it makes me feel any better about myself because I know I could work harder. I don’t give myself a break in any way! But what I think is no longer important except for the way it affects my daughter. I don’t want her to feel this way. I want her to love herself. I want her to love every inch of the amazing person she is and will be. I want her to be kind and generous to others and to herself. I love pictures of me and my mom. I did it for her.
So I dragged my butt to the store to find a new dress. I hoped it would make me feel better about the shoot. It did not. I bought a dress but ended up wearing one I already had. Baby Bug was not in the mood for the shoot. She gave the photographer the evil eye the whole time when she wasn’t pulling my dress top open to show off my boobies for the rest of the park to enjoy. I had done my hair nice but put it up in a messy bun for the drive because it was hot. I forgot to take said bun out for the photo shoot. Hubby was with us and was grumpy. Baby Bug screamed all the way home. Sigh. I tried. I guess the important part of being a mom is doing things which might not bear fruit for many years to come. One day in the future we will cuddle together on the sofa and talk about what a cute but mad baby she was. I can only hope it makes up for the blob with a messy bun holding her.
As for the actual day, well, men let me give you a tip. If your wife becomes a mother, the first mother’s day is VERY important. I do not suggest sleeping in and saying, “What? She isn’t old enough to do anything yet. I didn’t realize it was that important.” If you would say such a thing it will lead to a fight and many tears. Basically my first Mother’s Day ever as a mother sucked. The only thing I found at the end of this rainbow was the ass of a unicorn.
Just so you don’t think I’m a total negative person: I celebrate being a mother every day. I rejoice when I open my eyes and see my beautiful daughter sleeping beside me. Her little smile/no smile/ smile/ no smile dance her mouth does as she sleeps. My heart dances when my daughter is playing on the floor and she stops so she can look around for me then breaks into a huge smile when she finds me. I cry when she cries or produces a particularly rank diaper. I giggle when she giggles. I celebrate every moment of every day but some sort of recognition would have been nice.
