The cat will eat the flowers and then she will have diarrhea and that is not special for anyone. And please, no candy or chocolate – I will just eat them. No presents – I have so much stuff. I have more perfume than I will ever be able to use, and I know we can’t afford jewelry.
A card would be nice. I like a thoughtful card that I can refer to when you people are driving me to drink or run away. But you know what I really (really) want for Mother’s Day?
I want to get away from my family.
I want to have lunch by myself, with a magazine, and maybe a glass of wine. In a restaurant. That doesn’t have high chairs or a change table. The kind that actively discourages bringing children.
I want to try on clothes in a fitting room by myself in a store that doesn’t also sell toothpaste and lunch meat. I want to buy things because I want them, not because someone has thrown up on them. I want to linger. I want to touch.
It’s not that I don’t appreciate you, Family. You have your charms, and if there was a fire or something, I would probably try to save most of you.
The thing is, Family, that I give up a lot of things because you need something else. I haven’t had a haircut in a year because we were broke and needed to buy diapers and electricity. I haven’t repaired any of my many worn-out shoes because we needed the money for loan payments and rent and daycare and car insurance and groceries. When you need something, I get it for you. When you need me, I am there.
I am always there.
And because you are never alone, I am never alone. And Mom needs a break. It’s not me. It’s you.
For Mother’s Day, don’t spend any money. Just give me three hours alone. Hell, I’ll pay you for that even.
We can spend time together after. We can go to the park, and Spouse, we can put wine in our travel mugs. We could have a picnic, or get take-out, or you could cook (you COULD cook). We’ll play outside and feed Cheerios to the pigeons.
Three glorious hours, with no one asking for anything, or losing their shit about something they don’t have the vocabulary to describe, or wiping things on the backs of my pants. Three hours of refreshing solitude, a little me-time. That’s what I want. And need.
I’ll come back bright-eyed and better than ever, I promise.
This Mother’s Day, Family, please just leave me alone.
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