Do you ever get tired of reading the same damn thing every “holiday?”
Yeah, neither do I.
I enjoy it. In fact, I enjoy it so much I’ve taken time out of my “busy mommy life(!)” (I just gagged) to read every single blog post and article ever written near, on or about Mother’s Day. And I’ve summarized them in two sentences or less.
I didn’t actually do that.
I’m sure I missed one or two.
I’ve also added highly-opinionated, useless commentary.
Consider this my gift to you.
What can I say? I’m a giver. I give. I gave on my first try.
So here it is…All Mother’s Day blog posts ever written summarized in 2 sentences or less, complete with useless commentary and occasional f-bombs.
The “What moms really want on Mother’s Day” post
Summary: We don’t want brunch and mimosas and flowers and spa days. We want you to clean the house and toilets and cook while we sleep.
Only we don’t actually just want this on Mother’s Day, we want it every fucking day, but we feel like you owe it to us on Mother’s Day so we feel compelled to ask. Also, who the hell came up with the “we don’t want brunch and spas” nonsense? I want brunch. I love brunch. I also love spas. I used to love mimosas. I used to really, really love mimosas. Also whiskey.
Do people get whiskey on Mother’s Day? Why do we have to drink these girly drinks? Why can’t we drink some freaking Maker’s Mark?
Um. Let’s move on.
The overly sentimental reflection on motherhood post; AKA the “they grow up so fast” post
Summary: They grow up so fast.
Except when they’re three. Three takes forever. Three-year-olds are assholes. You keep telling me they grow up fast but my 3-year-old IS STILL THREE so what’s up with that, Einstein?
The “What if Mother’s Day cards told the truth?” post
Summary: Tongue-in-cheek “honest” depictions of motherhood so we all feel better about the fact that we suck.
Wait. I wrote one of those for Parenting magazine last year. If you can make it past the pop-up Betty Crocker ads, you can read them. Enjoy the clip art. That shit’s classic.
The “I feel guilty for being a crap mother so stop celebrating me” post
Summary: See title.
Oh damn I wrote one of those too. I’m such a cliché. I’m a cliché! Although that was one of the favorite things I’ve ever written and it’s Brain, Child (freaking excellent magazine) so that post doesn’t count, damn it.
I’m not a cliché!
I’m a unique and intricate snowflake!
The “My mom sucked so I hate Mother’s Day” post
Summary: I had a shit mom and therefore the rest of the world should not celebrate moms ever because it hurts my feelings.
Right. Because that makes sense. (Didn’t write one of those. My mom is the best mom in the world.)
Ah ha! The “my mom is the best mom in the world post.”
No she’s not. My mom is. Fuck off.
The “I don’t have kids and I’m sick of the glorification of motherhood” post
Summary: I’m “childfree” so I think we shouldn’t celebrate people who aren’t.
Because that also makes sense.
The Call-to-Arms/Kumbaya/“let’s all stop judging each other” post
Summary: I make my choices and you make your choices and because it makes me sound like a good, enlightened human I’m going to pretend like I don’t judge you for not making the same choices I’ve made.
Um, obviously I think my choices are better. THAT’S WHY I MADE THEM. And if I see some woman feeding a baby a bottle with juice in it, I’m gonna judge the hell out of her. Of course I am. That’s a stupid fucking thing to do. However, if that woman came up to me at the park, I would be good and decent and respectful because everybody’s on their own damn path and it’s none of my business what other humans do with their kids.
The problem is not that people judge. The problem is that people are dicks.
The humble-brag Mother’s Day gift post
Summary: My husband is significantly better than yours and we have lots of money. That’s really all I wanted to say.
Yes, I know this already because we’re friends on Facebook. (Unfollow! Restricted acquaintance! (Only helpful thing Facebook has done in 5 years.))
The “you’re a good mom/I’m a good mom/we’re all good moms” post
Summary: Stay-at-home? Good for you. Work? Great. Sit on your ass all day and play video games while smoking cigarettes and drinking Pabst Blue Ribbon? Go team! We support you!
No we don’t. We don’t really support you. We just pretend we do because it’s Mother’s Day.
(Also, has it ever occurred to any of these people writing the “You’re a stay-at-home mom and you’re doing a good job” or “You work out of the home and we salute you” posts that their target audience isn’t seeking the approval of a bunch of internet strangers? I mean, do you ever see posts congratulating fathers for staying home or working out of the home, validating their decisions and telling them “Everything will be okay, little one, we support you. YOU ARE OKAY.”
No. Because if a man stays home he’s a loving and devoted, miraculous father!
And if he works out of the home he’s a loving and devoted, miraculous father!
Also, the decisions of mothers are always held up for public scrutiny and analysis — Oh you bastard patriarchy. Nobody asked you. Stop telling me how to do human.)
Wow. That escalated quickly.
No but seriously it seems like the world sees mothers as bunch of needy, lost humans, all yelling in unison: “Somebody tell me I’m okay! Am I okay!?”
Somebody hold my hand and tell me I’m okay!
You’re not okay.
Alright fine. You’re okay.
(why can’t I ever just stay on topic? is it a disease?)
Which brings us to the “Oh mothers you’re so amazing and you’re totally okay and rocking it daily, cradling the future of humanity in your tender arms, pulling the lost souls of humanity into your warm bosom, building America through virtue and devotion and strength and stuff, WE THANK YOU.”
Oh yeah. I totally do that. I’m a builder.
Now leave me alone so I can eat some eggs benedict and get a fucking massage.
Shit only happens once a year, ya know.
Have fun, ladies. Make it a good one.
You know I support you.