Maybe next year — slackermama . com

Or Why my Mother’s Day was less than fabulous

I feel silly for even thinking about complaining, considering the numbers of women out there for whom Mother’s Day is yet another reminder of what they do not have or what they have lost. There are horribly large numbers of women who would love just BE a mother and could care less about how much love and affection is showered upon them on such an arbitrary holiday such as Mother’s Day.

That said, around these parts we try to make those days special. The honoree gets breakfast in bed, a “day off” of parenting duties, a meal out of their chosing (most times, budget allowing) and basically whatever else they want. It’s a pretty sweet deal, to be sure. Sometimes there are presents exchanged, sometimes not. But the day always has this halo of happiness around it, as we bask in our family.

Yesterday? Not so much. I tell ya, having the stomach flu (or food poisioning or whatever the HELL that was) really puts a damper on things like Mother’s Day. I got some really crappy sleep the night before. I was feeling better, at long, long last (no more running to the bathroom, at least). But I started feeling achey and generally miserable. My feet ached, my calves ached, my thighs ached, my stomach ached, my back ached, my arms ached… EVERYTHING ached. And I just couldn’t sleep because of it. Also, I was thirsty as all get out, having been nearly completely dehydrated the night before. So at 5am, after I’d been awake for an hour, I got up and went downstairs to have something to sip at and some crackers to nibble. Did I go back to sleep shortly therafter? Nope. Kile got up with the baby around 7am and I figured the day would get underway, one way or another. He’d promised me a breakfast of stuffed french toast with blueberrys on top and fresh squeezed orange juice, after all.

But a short while later he disappeared upstairs. I figured maybe a bathroom trip (30 minutes guaranteed for this guy), or playing around on the computer upstairs (since we are a laptopless family right now *weep*) . Could be he went to sleep, but I hoped not. Because that would be rude on Mother’s Day, wouldn’t it? To leave me, hungry and alone (and still a little ill) with the children on my one day of the year. Right? Right. Yeah, he went to sleep. And about 9:30, I went upstairs to investigate. Because I was starved at that point. And exhausted (remember me getting up at 4am?) (remember me being SICK??). And I’d just finally gotten Liam settled down from a crying jag (methinks he’s teething yet again). I collapsed into the bed and he promised to get right up and fix me a wonderful breakfast. I was going to hold my breath, of course. Then he got up to use the bathroom. Remember what I said about the 30 minute thing? YEAH.

I hoped maybe this would be one of the times he’d hurry it up so I hung out and waited. And started to doze off. Until I heard Liam crying in the pack n play downstairs. Again. Seriously? SERIOUSLY. So I drug myeslf downstairs to come to his aid. By this point my stomach (still sore from the previous evening’s pyrotechnics) is literally cramping with hunger. I could have gone into the kitchen to grab something to tide me over, but at this point, I was so annoyed I think I didn’t half out of spite. Kile comes waltzing down (30 minutes, right on the nose) and says he’ll fix some breakfast. He’s lucky he didn’t get something chucked at his head. I grumped that my stomach hurt and I was exhausted and I was ready for breakfast HOURS ago thankyouverymuch so just STUFF your french toast breakfast and escaped upstairs to collapse in a heap on the bed. Where, I kid you not, I literally passed out. I have no recollection of a single thing until Kile came in bearing a plate of french toast and a glass of juice. And a Mother’s Day card signed by both of the boys (yes, BOTH. Liam is very talented). And as much as I wanted to chuck his breakfast back at his head, I decided to let it go.

Tempramental? Probably. Selfish? Certainly. Driven to the brink of insanity by illness and exhaustion? For SURE. So being rational just wasn’t on my list of things to be that day. The rest of the day went much smoother but still, not what Mother’s Day would have been had The Sick not descended upon us yet again. We attempted to leave the house at one point later in the day (and believe me, it felt MUCH later than it actually was) to see if the allmighty Target had a baby stroller I would like to purchase as my Mother’s Day gift but NO, they did not. So we went back home. Pathetic.

So maybe next year. And I’ll try my damndest not to take out my angst about MY Mother’s Day on Father’s Day. (Though I think that the Gods of Government put Mom’s Day before Dad’s Day for a VERY good reason.)

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