Tag Archives: Mother’s Day

Dear Daughter

Dear daughter,


With Mother’s day coming up and the state of limbo that I currently find myself in, I thought it best to take a moment to express the frailty that is being a mother.


So, here goes…


I could start this off by stating the various lengths I’ll go to prove my undying love for you but I’m sure by the smothering overprotection and bear hug kiss attacks that you might get that already… BUT I love you with all of my heart. Albeit, all of my tired, weary, empowered, passionate, and sometimes self loathing heart. Us mothers have this nasty habit of going about our days with this ten-pound sack of emotions and I have to say that mine has gained a bit of weight lately. This is not to say that you have anything to do with the sudden weight gain. This is just an acknowledgment of the confused metabolism that our emotional state seems to have. We get up every day and get things done because they have to be. No one has ever told us that they’ll take care of it because… well… we don’t want to hear it and, therefore, choose to ignore it when said. From the moment we hear about you invading our womb and sucking the life from us (literally) we become this beast of “handling it.” Even if someone was to approach us and force us to sit and relax we will still have to micromanage how you allow us to sit and relax. It is no fault of yours but our own because we get up every day and get things done… they have to be.


I like to blame my mother for the way I am just simply because she did not prepare me before she left. I was too young to understand a mother/daughter relationship on a more even playing field by the time she was gone. My teenage years were spent with my father, who taught me how to think. He did not understand this ten-pound sack of emotions. He wasn’t meant to. He was about logic and research and all things opinionated and I love him for that. He taught me to analyze and my ten-pound sack taught me to over analyze and my over analytical self’s favorite topic is me. I have to admit that the past few days I have not been very kind to myself. I woke up one day to find that the person I was looking at in the mirror was distasteful. She was angry, frustrated, obsessive, lazy, sloppy, and weak. She blamed everyone else for not seeing her correctly without even seeing herself. This woman I see has come around before and I have dwelled on her in the past giving her full reign of my actions. I have failed many times before under her care but chose to ignore it. This time, however, there is something different. It’s you and ever since her return I find myself pushing past her to get up every day and do what has to be done… for you.


I had you when I, myself, was still a child at heart and I have grown with you along the way. I became a mother not at birth but with every passing moment with you. At times it feels as if you are teaching me how to become a mother fit for your love. As you get ready to turn ten years old later this year, you will be the age I was when I lost my mother and I feel that we will learn a great deal from each other in the coming years. I may falter from time to time. I may lose myself every now and then. I may find myself incapable of handling it but I will never stop trying to give you a beautiful life. I have lived. I have laughed and cried and cursed the world around me. I have kicked and screamed and ranted until ears have bled. I have loved and I have lost. I only wish to give you everything you desire, starting with morning snuggles (my favorite part of the day). One day you will come to realize that I am only human and, while I desperately tried to be your Wonder Woman, I have done and will continue to do the best I can.


Just like I told you in the quiet of your room while you slept as a baby…


It’s you and me kid.





The Cost Of Motherhood

With Mother’s Day around the corner, I feel the need to write about motherhood. Or, at least, the side that no one seems to want to discuss on a regular basis. This is the part every mother fears explaining for the shame that soon follows. The part that seems to haunt us.


There are the things that are domesticating in a mother’s life. I’m talking about the laundry, dishes, cooking, bedtime stories, teeth brushing, and many more that often get credited on Mother’s Day. Thanks for always taking care of me, mom. You wiped my ass when I needed it most. Sure, I will cook for my daughter. I will make sure she showers. I will even buy her that movie that she is dying to have. This is the forefront, the obvious, and the celebrated side. If you are a truly lucky mother, the children may even remember the times you kissed their boo boos and wiped their tears away. We are their superheroes and we will fight for them no matter what the cost to ourselves. This is the part that I am getting at though, the cost.


What no one ever seems to want to discuss is the completely terrifying moments that come from being a mother. Those moments when your child tears you down to nothing but the pile of shit they just threw on the floor. They scream at you, hate you, call you a liar, wrong, terrible… the worst mother in the entire world. The fits they throw with all the crying and nail-biting screams. There are moments when they do not listen to you. They completely ignore that you are even there. They make fun of you in front of their friends. They hit you, scratch you, and even bite you. Worst of all, they reject you…


There is a moment when all of this comes to a point. I like to call it the “lost space.” That moment when your child is lying face down on the floor, screaming and crying, and will not let you near them. The only thing that you can do is to just sit and watch them. There is not a single thing that will stop this from happening. Everything else in the world stops. Call the school. Forget your job. Turn off your phone. This is a personal day. An important family matter has come up. At this point in time you are lost. You cannot control your child. You are left in a standstill without a single solution to what is happening. This is not simply a moment of sanity loss but an intolerably heavy moment of severe depression and blinding rage rolled up in a nice blanket of paralyzing fear. You are no longer a mother but a soul from damnation that has brought forth the fires of Hell and then forgot the leash. Everything that has made you into who you are melts away and there is nothing left but an empty crumbling shell. You know that you should act like a mother but you forgot how.


Most children will not remember these moments but a mother will. Whether it was multiple times or just one big one, this is something that no one talks about. As mothers, it is our job to hide it but it’s there. It lives in a memory under our skin. It itches on occasion and calls out to us. It reminds us of the terrible possibility that we have failed. Maybe we will still fail. Maybe our child will grow up to become a terrorist or serial killer while the world looks to us and asks why. We do not have the answers. All we know is that the moment passed. We made it to the other side. It is finished and confused relief sets in.


Parenthood, in general, tears you down as a human being. I used to think that being a line cook was the most grueling and harshest job that there is but I was so incredibly wrong. Being a parent is a soul-crushing and murderous way to live. From the moment they are born, beyond the tedious domesticating responsibilities, you are filled with anxiety, frustration, exhaustion, and a looming sense of complete failure. This will never go away but those moments of “lost space” will. Eventually, when you reach the other side, you remember that this is your child. The real test of being a mother comes from the after effects of these moments when you can give your child a hug and tell them that it will be okay. What separates a mother from anyone else is her ability to look past those desires to watch the world burn down and still love her child without resentment. They come from our blood and whether we understand them or not, a world without our children is useless.


Mother’s Day is not about celebrating the endless piles of laundry that get done but remembering the sacrifices given without hesitation. When your mother looks at you with loving eyes and tells you that there was a time when she was unsure about your future, please, take her seriously. If it weren’t for her ability to see beyond moments of purely agonizing rage, you would not be here.


Remember that and go kiss your mother.