I’ve been waiting on myself to begin. I knew it was time to get back to this and I knew it was time for a shift. I shut down the old blog, bought a new name, and created a new site. A new chapter. But how to begin, Becca, how to start. The pressure. Y’all are like,...
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Happy Mother’s Day.
I started thinking about this Hallmark holiday, and what it really means. To me, usually, it’s another day of pressure. Was this Mother’s Day special enough? Did Jax enjoy it? Did I remember to store last year’s handmade card in the appropriate place? Why isn’t that appropriate place labeled in chalk pen on some scrap of Pinterest-esque burlap? Did I facebook our festivities with the perfect combination of sweet + sass and Instagram filter? Am I doing enough?
And on it goes. Being a mom o’guilt doesn’t end on Mother’s Day.
So today, I have deigned myself (drumroll) the Mother’s Day Fairy. This is like the Tooth Fairy, except I don’t fly, I don’t fit into a child’s tutu, and you all know I’m fake. Other than that, spot on.
MY GIFT TO YOU MOMS (sayeth the Mother’s Day Fairy), IS A GD BREAK. And I don’t mean a nap or a pedicure, I mean a mental break. A Be Nice To Yourselves Break. A Pat Yourself on the Back, you’re doing the best you can on most days, and that is enough.
(I should probably mention at this point that I am assuming a level of responsibility here. If you truly suck as a mom, let’s say I just saw you on the evening news, this isn’t for you. For you, the Mother’s Day Fairy says step it the hell up. Ain’t got no time for you today.)
To the rest of you. My list.
1 – The Articles.
OMG, the mom articles. Read them, laugh at them, consider them, but for the love of the Mother’s Day Fairy, don’t be judged by them. One mother’s opinion of your cell phone use, or your dirty-ish house, or your eating habits doesn’t make it a commandment, people. It’s just an opinion from someone, uh, that you don’t even know. And I, the All-Important Mother’s Day Fairy, say remember that.
2 – Pinterest.
I think we all know that Pinterest moms have an army of full-time, live-in caregivers, and an unlimited trust fund of epic proportions. When I remember this “fact,” the knowledge that the most I have ever done from Pinterest is use a magazine holder to hold cleaning supplies under my sink seems entirely reasonable.
3 – Be Who You Are.
I know that I will never find a child-rearing book that says “teach your child sarcasm by the age of 5.” Or “embrace the adorable cuteness of your son yelling DAMMIT when he stubs his toe!” But I am who I am, and these things happen. The Mother’s Day Fairy says you are at your best when you are just you. A good mom can be lots of things. Cliche? Totally. But variety is the spice of life. Cliche? You got me again.
4 – Punch People.
OMG I am just kidding. The Mother’s Day Fairy strongly advises against punching people (insert appropriate PSA), but knows you will want to punch people, and that is ok. Embrace the fight. The truth is that your doctor, school district, therapist, in-laws, favorite online chat group or radio show may not know what’s best for your kid. WHAT? No, seriously, that’s a true-freaking-statement. The Mother’s Day Fairy hereby sprinkles fairy dust (haha, it’s just dust from under my couch) on you and says, repeat after me: “I hereby trust my gut. Because I am Mom. Numero Uno, Head Honcho, if you don’t listen to me I will bring you DOWN, and better believe me, I am a maternal maniac.” Your kid, your gut, end of story. (See point #1 on other people’s opinions.)
And there it is. I am not including a bullet point on “it’s ok, you’ll mess up” or “you don’t like your kids every day” because sweet fancy fairy with a wand, soooo obvious. I appreciate that we have left the era where we have to pretend to love cleaning up after the kid that aims his johnson at the trash can and not the toilet, but moms, you don’t need anyone to tell you that some days are better than others. If your friends don’t get that, I invite you to dis those uppity hags, and come on over and meet my friends.
And with that, I remove my fairy wings, and accept that Jax’s handmade Mother’s Day flowers may never live anywhere but in an old Pottery Barn box, Sharpie-labeled STUFF. But I will hug him, and tell him I was always meant to be his mom. Then I will probably step on a lego, drop an F-bomb, while sarcastically announcing that I JUST LOVEEEE how he cleaned his room.
And he will be just fine. Because I am his mom.
Thanks Becca! Totally needed that as I read your blog at 11:00 pm when I have been FBing for WAY to long and should have been charging my battery for the hellish week ahead… But again, I am me and I’m good with that! Procratsination, day dreaming, unorganized and all.
If there were mom demerits for procrastination, we’d all be screwed!