This Mother’s Day, I pondered the unthinkable.
I pondered asking for a day without my children.
A day without any parental responsibility.
For most women, it was truly unthinkable.
For an infertile woman, it was truly shocking.
In the days leading up to Mother’s Day, as my lack of sleep and general crankiness caught up to me, I started testing my thoughts on others.
“Why is it that on Mother’s Day, Moms spend the entire day with their kids— which is really no different than any other day? Whereas on Father’s Day, Dad’s go golfing or do whatever they wish for most of the day—-which is also no different than any other day?”
Some people nodded.
A few chuckled.
And yet I knew in my heart, that to ask for the day off would mean I was a bad mother.
Finally I said to my husband, “As a homeschooling stay-at-home mother, I just want to spend the entire day doing nothing—-by myself. I just want the day off. It’s not fair!” And then I may have stamped my feet and pouted—or at least it came out sounding that way.
“Fine. It’s your day.” said my husband, in a tone one reserves for irrational toddlers, or the crazy.
“Great.” I said, with a strangle tickle in my belly.
So on Mother’s Day, when the baby started wailing at 6am I stayed in bed…cringing.
When I heard my kids outside the door loudly whispering, “Now can we give Mommy her presents? What about her breakfast in bed?” I guiltily pulled the covers over my head.
At 8am I tried to go downstairs, only to have my husband hand me my breakfast—which I couldn’t eat. So I turned on the TV and attempted to watch and erase the shows TIVO had faithfully saved for me over the past 7 months or so. I gorged myself on Oprah & Real Housewives. Yeah, I did the important stuff. Then I took a super long shower without anyone knocking on the shower door or having to keep an eye on the baby crawling around the bathroom—-and I missed them.
As I attempted to go downstairs again, my husband pushed me back into bed and said, “The kids want to give you your presents—IN BED.”
And so, I went. A little sadly. But hey, they were coming up at least.
The handmade cards and presents came.
My oldest daughter solemnly handed me each gift with the words, “This is from all four of your children.”
I loved every second of it.
And when they left so (mean) Mommy could spend the day without them—–I finished getting dressed and joined them downstairs.
you have to be careful what you wish for.
Luckily it was only 11:15AM and we still had the rest of the day to spend together.