Some thoughts on Mother’s Day:
- I used to hate Mother’s Day when I was young, because I didn’t have a mom and my teachers would make me participate in all the stuff and make cards and presents and stuff anyway. I hated it. It made me feel like more of a freak than I already did.
- BDH found a mouse house in the garage this morning. He went to dump it in the garbage and a mouse came running frantically out and scrambled away. I made him check to be sure that the mouse house wasn’t actually a nest and that there were no babies. We both feel pretty bad for the little mouse (but it’s spring so there’s no need to live in the garage anymore). We’d feel worse if there were babies.
- We used to have to take my grandmother out for brunch or lunch or whatever on Mother’s Day when I was a kid. I never really liked my grandmother much. She’s wasn’t very grandmotherly or affectionate or anything. But it was usually a nice lunch, and I was all about the food.
- I used to dread Mother’s Day, because it was a reminder that I didn’t have children. That I had lost my child. That I couldn’t have children. Now, I’m getting fine with it.
- I get a kick out of it when my friends and the women I know get fussed over on Mother’s Day. I know a lot of really cool moms, and they deserve a little spoiling and good times on Mother’s Day. Being a mom is hard work. (The same can be said for some of the dads I know on Father’s Day too.)
- The young woman who ran the painting crew for our porch last week called this morning to wish me a Happy Mother’s Day. She’s really excited for us that we’re adopting and so it was a Happy-Soon-You’ll-Be-A-Mom-Day wish.
Happy Mother’s Day, moms!