Today was supposed to be the day where families honor their mothers. Maybe they get a present or get a day off.
Bah humbug, I say! Being a mother is a 24/7 job. It doesn’t take days off or buy you lunch.
You sweat, change dirty diapers, keep the peace and keep the house in decent shape only to have the tornado called your family tear everything you built into nothing.
After doing this day in and day out for however many years you’ve been a parent, you notice something.
Maybe it’s the fact you’ve picked up the same toy every night this week, or that you keep having the same fight with your kid every time it’s time to go to bed.
For me it was peeling paint. I live in an older home and there are some spots where you can see the paint is starting to come off the wall. But this wasn’t natural. Someone had taken the time to start peeling the paint off an existing hole in the now-dirty white paint, revealing the most hideous mustard yellow I’ve seen in quite some time.
“I just wanted to see what color the wall was,” my oldest explained.
My oldest, who has been told not to do several things (including peel paint off the walls) multiple times, did this.
I had spent the day working on my usual day off and came home to clean in an attempt to get rid of a nasty GI bug that was making its rounds.
I looked at the white paint that looked almost like clouds on the carpet. I sighed.
“You know you aren’t supposed to do that,” I said as I picked up the clouds that now seemed like slick, fragile paper.
“I know,” she replied as she got under the covers of her quarantine bed/couch.
“I just can’t keep living like this. We can’t live like this,” I half mumbled to myself as I went to throw the paint scraps in the trash.
Then it hit me. Being a mom is a 24/7 job, but you can call a timeout. After all, you are the mommy.
After everyone was tucked into bed, I stopped my war against grime and called a cease fire. I needed some me time.
The day, on the whole, was disastrous. It started with arguing with the oldest kids over whether they should help their sick dad, the most recent GI virus victim. Then I went to work on what is usually my day off.
Then I came home and started working on cleaning. And during dinner, my Mother’s Day pie was destroyed, a victim of bad stacking in the fridge.
But at least I had a slice of the chocolatey goodness my kids made.
I had a paper flower and several Mother’s Day cards.
I also got to see my kids face light up while playing with their toys. I learned that my oldest son thinks he’s turning into Ironman (maybe another bug going around our house so be careful.)
Despite all the bad stuff, overall it was a good day.
A mother’s love knows no bounds. We clean up poop, comfort the sick and do stuff most people wouldn’t want to do.
Our special day is really every day. Each day is brings something new. We can either take it like an explorer, as a challenge to be enjoyed, or as a tourist, with our nose stuck in a guide book. The choice is ours.
Even though some days, things seem horrible, remember it’s just part of the journey. Enjoy the ride; take in everything.
Who knows, you may get kissed by a superhero like I did today.
I hope all of the mothers out there have a good Mother’s Day. Let me know about your adventure either by commenting or visiting my Facebook companion site.