"It was a hundred little things."
In our text exchange about the day, my best friend wanted to know why my Mother’s Day was less than fabulous. And I didn’t know for certain. It wasn’t one big thing. There was no major meltdown, no one actually forgot me. It was just a hundred little things that made my supposed-to-be magical day lackluster. So that’s what I told her. And she replied, “I get it. Here too.”
It sucks because moms are supposed to feel really awesome on Mother’s Day
It's such a catch-22
Is it my fault? Hallmark’s fault? My husband’s fault? Do commercialized holidays really just jazz me up and leave me feeling blah in the end?
I don’t think I’m alone when it comes to disliking the buildup to Mother’s Day. Perfect days don’t exist and yet we’ve been sold a very glamorous picture of what Mother’s Day should be like. Had today, a random weekday, been Mother’s Day, it would have earned a 9/10. Solid breakfast, productive errands, sweet baby snuggles, a good run, kind kiddos that checked off chores without reminders — practically a hundred little things that have made today good.
And I think that’s where it all lies
The calendar day of Mother’s Day is never going to be my day. Unless I’m careful, I’ll always have skewed expectations and a little pity party about how it ended. My everyday life, though? It’s pretty wonderful.
A hundred little things.
One hundred good, little things that make most every day a day I’m happy to be a mom. This week, I’m noticing it all. Mother’s Day, you’re not my cup of tea. But that’s OK, because the other 364 days of the year, I’m pleased as punch with this mom gig and the crew of sweet kids who call me their own.
