My very first Mother’s Day with my husband was a disaster, at least from my perspective. We’d been together for 4 months and could hardly leave each other’s side. We were head over heels in love with one another. We were making plans on going on a vacation together and eventually moving to Montreal. We knew we were made for each other.
So when my husband invited his family to come over for Mother’s Day dinner, I was OK with that. I thought I was going to be included as one of the “guests of honor.” The unrealistic expectations started to pop up. It started out when he asked my help in the kitchen. I thought sure, why not. I love helping out, plus it would give us time alone together. Then slowly, I was doing a bit more as the day wore on. It started to annoy me, that as a mom myself, I was doing more of the meal. It started to feel like any other day of the week. Nothing special.
By the time desert came, I was getting more upset. Hubby had taken care of getting a cake and putting the names of the moms on it. The problem was that my name wasn’t there. What’s going on here? Am I not a mom? Tears were threatening to overflow, but I held back as best I could.
I know that not everyone enjoys Mother’s Day in the same way. I know it wasn’t always the best. When my son was born 31 years ago, my very first Mother’s Day was spent on a tractor in the fields (my ex was a farmer and Spring means lots of outdoor work). It just happened to be another busy day in Spring.
What stories do you have around Mother’s Day? Did you have an Ah! Ah! moment? Did you hide in the closet and cried all day? Did you treat yourself to an amazing day even if that meant you were alone? Share with me your Mother’s Day story so that we can all learn and be inspired or support you and acknowledge you for what to do it this complicated world called relationships.
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