It's Mother's Day. Happy Mother's Day to those of you lucky enough to have started your families.
It's a bit of a difficult day for me, to be honest. It's never really bothered me before, but as Brian and I are finally, finally in a place to start a family and it hasn't been as easy as falling off a log, so to speak, I am a little emotional about it.
Oh yes, I have my dogs and my cat. And they are quite child-like at times, but I have found as I age (more rapidly than I would like), even brilliant dogs and cats are not quite the same thing as a child of your own.
I try to stay positive. These things do take time. God has a plan. I am still young (my ovaries are laughing even as I type). I have 100 children every day at school, many of whom stay in touch and believe that I have made a significant difference in their lives. We can always adopt.
You name the platitude, I have heard it or said it over and over to myself, little mantras to get me through the next menstrual cycle.
I used to roll my eyes at the little dresses in the department stores. I shivered at kids throwing fits in a restaurant. And while I do still fear the tantrum, I wouldn't mind taking my turn at handling one. And I can't wait to have a closet full of little pink dresses...or little football helmets or whatever in the spare room closet instead of the random crap that's in there now.
I am touched but ever so slightly bothered by the fact that I was included in Mother's Day twice today. The intention was completely pure in both cases, but I felt like such a phony.
Our minister's daughter passed out a flower to all the women in the congregation at church today. A simple, sweet gesture. But I am not a mother. I don't have that honor, that responsibility. Nor can I say that I ever will. I appreciated not being left out, but I felt like an imposter.
Then at lunch, there was free cobbler for the moms. The waitress brought a bowl to my mother and me without even batting an eye. And while I really wanted the cobbler, I still felt like a phony, a little dishonest. (Don't you worry, I ate it, and it was good.)
And I know that it's silly. I know if you are reading this right now, in your mind are the same platitudes I am thinking. Have been thinking.
Don't worry, some day you will earn that flower and cobbler plus some.
And you have no idea how right I hope you are. But as each month brings only another bottle of Midol, it gets more difficult to be patient. (Still not my best virtue, even with all we've been through.)
So, here's hoping by Father's Day things will be different. We need a new adventure.