I know during this time of uncertainty and upheaval we are supposed to have hearts filled with nothing but gratitude. I am thankful for my health, my family's health, and the ability to keep food on the table and a roof over our heads. I'm thankful that my husband and I can attempt to homeschool our kiddos (thank God the oldest is only in kindergarten, because Common Core is the devil) as we have access to technology and resources to make it happen.
I try my hardest to let love lead and focus on gratitude — like an episode on Oprah's Soul Sunday — but it's hard, y'all … and I know I'm not the only one who feels this way. With my kids and husband up under me at home for the last 46 days straight (who's counting?), I need a break from sheltering in place with loved ones — which is why for this Mother's Day, the only gift I need is the gift of being alone.
I know it's a bit uncouth for people to complain during this time, but I'll just say what a number of us are thinking, including tired moms.
Kindly leave me the [insert expletive here] alone, and be blessed with your day.
Sighs.
That feels so good to say out loud instead of screaming into a random towel I found in the bathroom, because one kid can't let me pee for five minutes without showing me some character on his tablet, and the other wants to annoy me by putting his fingers underneath the door like the alien in Signs.
I love my kids, but, wow oh wow, these times we're in.
These kids are running me ragged, and replenishing wine is becoming too expensive.
Between work, home life, grad school, volunteering, and trying to fight for justice in my community (both near and far), I've noticed that my alcohol consumption has increased significantly since life around us basically shut down. It's amazing how quickly I shoot up a prayer as I put on my cloth mask and brave the aisles in the liquor store, hoping to the high heavens I don't cough or sneeze.
I'm pretty sure I've tasted every Riesling from around the world and back.
Being stuck in the house means my kids are finding my secret candy stashes, and my husband thinks we have all the time in the world to shake sheets.
I've been so tempted to grow out my leg hair, grow a fancy mustache, or pretend to have a 12-year issue of blood like the old girl in the Bible just to be left alone by this man. Passing gas, burping, taking long stretches in the bathroom without a candle, and dressing like I'm dumpster-diving aren't working. I don't know what kind of employer he has where he can gyrate just because in my presence — in hopes that his Magic Mike moves will entice me — but I don't.
I love my husband, and I love the time we have together … but I don't need to love on my husband during all this time we now have together — like there's some urgency to repopulate the Earth.
I would take a bullet for my husband and kids ... but someone might catch one if I don't get some peace.
Obviously, I'm kidding. I would never do anything to harm my family. I love them. I love them. It's just … sometimes I feel I need a straitjacket or a time-out, and it's becoming hard to distinguish between the two. The walks around the block aren't long enough, and it's not like I can just hang out in Target for 90 minutes like I used to because of our new normal. Every getaway spot is closed, and this house isn't big enough to vanish in.
This Mother's Day, I want to be able to sleep in without hearing one of my kids say "Mom!" 42 times before calling me by my government name.
Isn't it amazing how much you yearned to be called "mom" one day only to loathe the sound if and when your children say it every other sentence in 30-second time intervals? Instead of saying "mom," let's switch that up to "grandma" so she can come get y'all.
I want to be able to drink wine, tea, or whatever as I catch up on Lifetime movies instead of being subjected to another episode of 'Team Umizoomi.'
The kiddos can keep their handmade cards and pictures. There are enough on the refrigerator and in the keepsake boxes we have in the closet. Instead, I would like half a day of silence — at least 90 minutes — so I can roll around in bed with my head wrap, let my toes swirl in the sheets, and attempt to watch one of many Lifetime movies on the DVR before falling back asleep.
That's all I want … and maybe a bag of peanut M&Ms and some Swedish Fish.
I want to enjoy a Zoom chat with some friends and a dreamy background for 15 minutes without one of my kids banging on the door to get in.
Even if I can't get to Bermuda right now, I can put up a fake background of some sand and water, grab a fan, and let the air blow across my face like a fake breeze. There have been so many failed attempts to have one of those Netflix Party thingies with my fellow mama friends, it's comical at this point. I'd love to hop on a video call with some moms on Mother's Day with a mimosa in hand as we pretend we ran away to an undisclosed island for the foreseeable future.
And should the spirit move me, I just might get in the car and drive to the border, just because.
Granted, Canada closed off its borders a while ago (sob), but a girl can dream. I'm less than an hour away from my happy neighbors, and boy do I miss them. (Canadians, not my actual neighbors … I see them all the time.) Once this whole thing is over, I might take a night to myself so I can enjoy a bed and breakfast in Canada and pretend I'm in some Hallmark movie — full of happiness, cheer, and a small town with those cute general stores.
My family and I have an entire lifetime to annoy each other ... I just want want peace and quiet this Mother's Day.
Listen, I love my family — I adore them. I just think, given the circumstances, it's not too much to ask to socially distance by myself, in my room, possibly with takeout … and wine. I'll still take the handwritten cards and whatever else can fit underneath the door.
Mamas need some time to themselves, and it's practically nonexistent these days. So yeah, half a day of not having to worry about how the household is running doesn't seem like too much to ask.
It's a free gift.