Something weird happened after Mother’s Day. And then it happened again, and again, and again. Let me start by saying I had no expectations for Mother’s Day. I wasn’t dreaming about it, planning it, or hoping for something special. That’s not really my style plus it has been a pretty busy month or two and the “holiday” kind of crept up faster than I realized.
So here is was happened…and what keeps happening ever since the day after Mother’s Day.
I have been asked some variation of the following two questions: 1. How was your Mother’s Day, what did you do? 2. What did you get for Mother’s day?
My answers vary depending on the person but go something like this:
1. It was nice. We decided to drive up to the Sequoia area where my husband’s grandmother and aunt live (and half sister was visiting). They had not met my son yet so it seemed like the right time and that way we could drive his sister back home with us. I was pretty sick which didn’t make the drive much fun but it was good I went because if I had stayed home I probably would have been in bed and this way I did something for Mother’s Day.
2. What did I get? Well my husband posted something nice on Facebook and my son made a hand print picture for me at daycare.
So here comes the weird part that seems noteworthy to me. After I responded to said questions I started to notice a pattern with the reactions I received. There would be a pause, little verbal response and then a look that ran the spectrum from bewilderment to horror.
This seemed weird to me.
I thought my response and was normal, why were people acting weird to me?
Then I realized that they thought my answers or my Mother’s Day experiences were weird!
Once I realized this I felt uneasy I took another look at the events and my feelings. Then I just got mad. I wasn’t mad at my Mother’s Day but at these “friends” who were judging my experience.
My Mother’s Day was lovely. It was spent with caring people we don’t see very often in a beautiful setting. We did something nice for someone else. But most importantly I spent quality time with my husband and my 14-month-old son whom I told all day how thankful I was that he made me a mommy. I didn’t need the day to be about me. I didn’t need (or want really) a fancy gift. I just wanted to be a wife and mom, and that is what I did.
My Mother’s Day may not have been other people’s choice of how to spend the day and therefore seemed “weird”. However, I chose it, it was normal to me and beautiful. I wouldn’t have changed it for anything in the world.
