A happy mother.
I’d like to say “Happy Mother’s Day” to all the women who bore children and raised them. Motherhood must be the most difficult job in the world and so many women bear it with love and joy. Kudos. I have ultimate respect and admiration for those women who, by choice, default, or “oops,” gave birth and stuck it out to love and protect their offspring.
I’m not a mother–by choice–and would really love it if people who know that about me would stop wishing me a happy Mother’s Day. I know it sounds bah-humbug. Maybe it is, but I still chaff at it. I take full responsibility for my reaction. It is my problem and not a judgement of the well-wishers. Something to work on overcoming with my NLP, I guess. But for now, it still rankles.
A few friends and some unsuspecting folk in the public sector, i.e. wait people, grocery checkers, etc., after wishing me a happy Mother’s Day and hearing my reply that I’m not a mother, rationalize it with something like, “All women are mothers,” or “A mother is one who nourishes others.” and so forth.
Although my heart goes out to these well-wishers for their kind thoughts, the fact is that I chose NOT to be a mother because I wanted to live my life on my terms and had no hormonal instinct to bear children. I’m not a mother and have never once regretted my decision.
Yes, I’m sometimes a grumpy old lady on Mother’s Day. I hide out like a troglodyte. Man…am I screwed up or what? Just take the frickin’ “Happy Mother’s Day” wishes and shut the F up. It’s the kindness in their hearts and the joy that it gives them that counts. Sheesh. Whatta jerk I can be.
Mom and Dad 1947
Happy Mother’s day, Mom. I hope you are having fun in the afterlife.
Confessions of a Confetti Head 