And everyone looking at this would say, “Awww, she had a good day with her boys and everyone was content and she even got to relax looking at a gorgeous tree in the park. How nice.”
None of that would paint a real picture.
In reality, Julian woke me up at 6:15 this morning and screamed when I told him to go back to bed. He pretty much whined/screamed/disobeyed for the rest of the day.
I could also post this:
The truth is we barely made it out of the house. I had pictured a relaxing breakfast in bed with my adorable kids being sweet and Mother’s Day like, but they didn’t get the memo. To give credit where credit belongs, Arthur was a peach all day. He truly tried to get us all out of the slump we found ourselves in. But his brother, Julian, my darling first born son, has really been testing our patience and general understanding of sanity since the day he turned four. He is giving me a headache.
We managed to make it through the day. There were enjoyable moments, such as my little nature walk with the boys.
Jeff picked these flowers for me.
Arthur napped on me while Julian snoozed on the bike.
This would be a more real picture:
Truth is, Arthur smelled good and was warm and cuddly. But also my arms hurt because I was holding him up, my back was killing me, and I had to pee.
Also, what’s not pictured is the donut I had requested that was basically dumped in my bed this morning in a greasy bag. The coffee that was too strong. The kid that woke us up too early. The whining. The whining. THE WHINING. Also: The intense headache that hit me on our bike ride home. As in the light from the stop light sent a shooting pain straight into my temple. I felt nauseous.
So let’s just talk about expectations, shall we?
Mother’s Day is lovely. It’s a great day to remember mamas and all they do. It’s lovely to eat breakfast in bed. But in reality, especially when you have very young children and a stressed husband, it’s just another day. And chances are, it’s kind of a stupid day. Like in my case. Because not all days are awesome.
What set me up for failure were my expectations. And my whiny children. I somehow thought this day would be magical and my children would be well behaved and everything would be rose-colored and lovely.
So suck it, Mother’s Day 2015. I am glad this day is almost over. Good riddance, and let’s try again next year.
P.S. Last year was better. You can’t win all the time, can you?