“In fact that is why the lives of most women are so vaguely unsatisfactory. They are always doing secondary and menial things (that do not require all their gifts and ability) for others and never antyhing for themselves. Society and husbands praise them for it (when they get too miserable or have nervous breakdowns) though always a little perplexedly and half-heartedly and just to be consoling. The poor wives are reminded that that is just why wives are so splendid–because they are so unselfish and self-sacrificing and that is the wonderful thing about them! But inwardly women know that something is wrong. They sense that if you are always doing something for others, like a servant or nurse, and never anything for yourself, you cannot do others any good. You make them physically more comfortable. But you cannot affect them spiritually in any way at all. For to teach, encourage, cheer up, console, amuse, stimulate or advise a husband or children or friends, you have to be something yourself.  If you would shut your door against the children for an hour a day and say; ‘Mother is working on her five-act tragedy in blank verse!’ you would be surprised how they would respect you. They would probably all become playwrights.”
— Brenda Ueland

I don’t like Mother’s Day.  There.  I said it.  If that excludes me from being nominated for Mother Of The Year (again)…so be it. 

Growing up, Mother’s Day was about my Mom, I suppose.  I don’t really remember a single one or a single gift that I gave her or what we did to celebrate.  That’s sad.  Once I got married, it was about my Mom and hubby’s Mom.  So, we bought the obligatory flowers and gifts and celebrated by taking them to dinner or something. 

I started actively disliking it once I became a Mom myself.  I do remember my first Mother’s Day as a Mom.  My sister and I took our Mom out for the obligatory brunch, gave her the obligatory gifts, and then hubby and I went to my Mother’s-in-law house with the baby.  It was a big barbecue with lots of family.  We gave her the obligatory gift and at some point all the guys went to a local park to play basketball.  My Sister-in-law was furious.  She went on a rant about how this was supposed to be HER day and her hubby was off playing basketball, leaving her with the kids.  I remember secretly agreeing with her but outwardly saying it was fine.  It was always fine.

By my third Mother’s Day, I was starting to recognize and even vocalize (a little bit) my distaste for this day.  Don’t get me wrong, hubby did his best.  He always got me very nice gifts that I loved (flowers, spa gift certificates, perfume, etc.).  He always asked what I wanted to do.  However, I wasn’t sure myself and even if I had been we still had to do something for our Moms too.  That year I came up with a sort of compromise that turned into a tradition.  We would take both Moms to brunch, then the rest of the day could be about doing what I wanted.  This WAS better, but still, not great.  It never really worked out.  Again, I wasn’t even sure WHAT I wanted and most years we ended up with family coming back to our house after brunch so I got to play hostess.

As this Mother’s Day was approaching and I was trying to figure out when and where to go on my solo trip, I really started thinking about Mother’s Day.  We SHOULD give a gift.  We SHOULD do what our Mom wants to do.  We SHOULD feel SOMETHING resembling affection, love or at the very least, appreciation for Mom, right?  I didn’t.  I didn’t at all.  I felt resentful that I SHOULD do anything.  FUCK SHOULD!  I was sick of “should”.  I lived my whole life doing what I SHOULD.  It didn’t make me happy and when mama’s not happy, nobody’s happy. 

So…that’s how I decided.  I would take my trip on Mother’s Day weekend.  I left the obligatory gift with my sister to give to my Mom.  I called her, just like I should.  But, I wasn’t going to be here.  I was going to be somewhere else, doing exactly what I wanted!  But…where?