Mother’s Day

Okay, so it’s Mother’s Day.

Those of you who have been along for the ride for a bit know that this day is fraught with anxiety for me. Not because I AM a mom, but because I am WITHOUT a mom. And you know that she’s not dead, or somewhere in a nursing home eating oatmeal and calling me Gladys whenever I go to see her, or anything sad but unavoidable like that. My mom is alive, well and…not speaking to me.

You'll Like My Mother

You'll Like My Mother (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

It’s fucking awesome.

Still and all, despite all the pills that I have to take NOW because of her and my dad, I have to say that she tried the best she could as I grew up and I owe a lot of who I am today to her. Sure, she made mistakes, but Jesus, I look at my own kids and I lose count of the shit I wish I could go back and do over again. So, I’m not holding any grudges about my childhood. Adulthood, yes, but childhood, okay.  She was young, and a suddenly single parent, and somehow, by the grace of God, I made it through, not totally unscathed, but not completely psychotic.

A LITTLE psychotic. And it started to turn into a LOT of psychotic when I missed my pills 3 nights in a row this week, let me tell you. But I’m okay now, the kids and the Tech Guru are still alive and the twitching and murderous impulses have decreased dramatically. YAY FOR DRUGS!

Anyhow, last year, I was all in a tizzy about Mother’s Day. Of course I wanted to share it with Pudding and Punksin, but I was also bummed about my orphan state. The Tech Guru went to see his mother, and in what ultimately turned out to be a completely JACKASS move, I told him to take the kids so I could have some down time.

Well, let’s just say that DOWN time doesn’t even BEGIN to describe it. I was here, alone – a rare occurrence for me – and I should have enjoyed it with wine and my fave TV shows and a book and,  to quote Simon and Garfunkel, the sounds of silence. But all that silence just led me to thinking about my mom and feeling shitty. And then I felt more shitty and mad that my kids had left me. How dare they leave me on Mother’s Day? Why would they be so fucking stupid as to LISTEN to me? I mean, look at all the OTHER times they don’t listen to me: Stop running down the stairs! Stop doing cartwheels off the bed! Stop launching yourself off the couch! Stop riding your scooter down the hall! Get out of the fridge! Stop peeing in the shower! Get back in the house, you have no pants on! No, I do not want to pet the fucking guinea pig, put him back in the cage! Stop hitting your sister with the light saber! Stop telling your brother the guinea pig is dead and making him cry! Why do you wait til the LAST MINUTE to go to the bathroom? Stop lifting my weights before you drop them on your toes!

All that stuff, I say a million times and they don’t listen. Leave Mommy on Mother’s Day? Everybody’s in the fucking car before you can say BOO.

So that was last year. This year I laid down the law.

There is to be NO LEAVING OF THEIR MOTHER BY MY CHILDREN ON MOTHER’S DAY.

I told the Tech Guru that he was more than welcome to go see his mom, because she IS his mom and he needs to set a good example for Pudding so that when HE gets older he will come see ME. (Yeah, that is totally selfish, I know.) But he is not allowed to take the kids. Any other time, sure, go see Abuela.

NOT ON MOTHER’S DAY.

Of course you might say, hey, why don’t you go too?

Well, I love her dearly but…she’s not my mother. I want to see MY mother on Mother’s Day. And if I can’t see MY mother on Mother’s Day, then I don’t want to see ANYONE’S goddamn mother. Again, yeah, I know. Selfish. But not really. It’s just that I know it will just make me sad and morose and tearful and honestly, I do enough of that bullshit already. Lately, not so much, thank God, but I’m not trying to go backwards down THAT dark road.

So this year, I don’t know what is going to happen except that I am going to be with my kids ALL DAY LONG. Which is really not any different from any OTHER day, but…it’s Mother’s Day. And I’m their mom. And that’s all I want…to be with my children, who are sweet and loving and still so open, and feel the love emanating out from them like warm sunlight over my soul.

It makes up for a lot.

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