Mother’s Day

I was going to start the beginning of this post with one thing, and then another, and then another. So, I am starting it saying this: writing is my therapy because it allows me to actually organize pieces of my brain that absolutely will not shut up.

When I let my thoughts spiral, I’m onto the next thought before I can finish the first. Like, every pathway is laying out in front of me and I see a million things of what I want to say, what’s important to me, what’s important to you, how to connect with you, what I want to figure out. I see all these different thought streams and see how each one will affect me, but it gets overwhelming if I keep it to myself. When I talk about it aloud, I either stumble from saying too much or say barely anything at all because I’m observing and considering thoughtfully.

Writing breaks it all down though. It allows me to see what’s important and what’s not. Even if I write something that I realize is not as important as I think so in the moment of writing, it usually sparks more thoughts and ideas and observations. Because chances are if I actually write it out, I’ve already stumbled through a million thoughts about the subject.

Yeah, anyways…

Mother’s Day, lol.

Okay, I’m starting to feel like I do when I just want to not say anything at all.

Anyways,
I think I’m desperate to be loved in the exact way I want, which isn’t fair to any other person because I’m asking them to be a scripted version of themselves.

I always wanted my mother to love me in a certain way, and she couldn’t. And it caused a lot of resentment and pent up emotions because of it. So Mother’s Day was always so hard because I was jealous, guilty, sad, and grateful.

Overall I always felt…not well.

And now I’m married to this man, who is wonderful in so many ways but he doesn’t celebrate holidays, like, at all. Like, if I didn’t plan any family gatherings, or decorate the house, or tell our boys what day it is, they would go by without doing anything for whatever correlated celebration.

So this has caused some hurt feelings because I LOVE CELEBRATING. Like, in all forms. I love being cutesy and doing fun things in relation to the day. I don’t know. I do know most holidays are made up, but it makes life easier to live. Can’t we just agree to hate Mondays and celebrate some random ass thing every now and then?

I also take great fucking pride in being a mom. I pour my absolute heart and soul into this job, and I don’t take it lightly. I might suck some days, but I still am giving it the best I can for that day — everyday.

I try to raise decent human beings, while making life a learning lesson by having fun and experiencing dope shit. I put my goals on hold, stay up way too late to prepare the next day, clean up after everything, and just try my fucking best for these humans!

And of course today wasn’t even acknowledged.

And not only was it not acknowledged, but I still am the one to put away three loads of dishes, do two loads of dishes, do a load of laundry, clean the boys’ room, vacuum the house. Basically what I do every day, but that’s the point. I just expected something more for one day, ya know?

AHHHHHH. But it’s, like, he’ll randomly do a load of dishes or clean up shit on different days. So, he does help with that stuff sometimes. And he mowed the lawn. And he made breakfast (after I mentioned it) and dinner (which, truthfully, he often does).

But life has just been shit lately.

Side note: I’m not talking about wanting anything extravagant. A kiss on the cheek, a “Happy Mother’s Day,” maybe a handmade card from him and the boys. Something small that just shows he’s thankful.

I know I’m not doing this alone, I see what he does…and I know he sees what I do.

So, why am I mad?

I don’t know!! Ultimately, it’s irrational because he shows me he cares in so many ways regularly. Our sex life is magnificent. He makes me laugh, and is so sweet, and is a great dad. He helps out with multiple things. He is caring and hardworking. He’s awesome!

And he made me a Magic deck to play with him, which is so sweet, but when he brought it up today it felt so selfish!

Which makes me want to punch myself in the face, because obviously it’s sweet. But, like, it feels like it’s his hobby that he wants me to share with him — which I love — but on a day where I just want to be asked what I want to do or what I need, it was irritating.

And then he went to lay down at 5pm.

Which, again, he works hard and I don’t mind him going to sleep early. But it meant I was left alone with the kids on the one day I just wanted TIME to myself. I want to write! I want some quiet! I want to go to the gym without it being a family event.

Sorry, sorry.

I’m irritated at how today was handled, but it is not a bad life.

Days like today I just feel dead, and these kind of days just keep happening. Busy, stressful, tiring, repetitious. Trying to run a personal business, run a home, homeschool kids, care for kids, and keep up with a relationship is H A R D.

But also on Friday night, Trevor woke me up at midnight and we went to search for the northern lights, and we loaded up the kids and searched the stars in the middle of nowhere. Because it was on my bucket list. It was pure magic.

So, aw fuck maybe the problem is me.

I think I’m honestly just burnt the fuck out from motherhood, which makes me feel especially bad on Mother’s Day — because it comes with expectations. And my body is already biased to feel negatively toward it, which causes even more of an expectation to Trevor to fix that internal feeling. And like I’ve wrote before, any time there’s expectations the universe shits on them somehow. Especially on a made up holiday where I’m admittedly comparing and cranky.

This life is fucking beautiful, and way more than I deserve. I experience so much beauty, and have more than I could ever dream.

I look at the wars from across the seas, and I feel a gratitude that makes my entire spirit fill.

But fuck bro. Emotions be high.

I’m also about to start my period.

Fuckity fuck fuck.

Hate this shit.

But I needed to work it out in my head.

Now I’m going to go do some yoga and submit some photos for photoshoots, if the boys decide to stay asleep long enough for me to accomplish both.

Happy Mother’s Day, yo.