My First Mother's Day

Way back when My first baby was 6 months old... I somehow imagined that my dear sweet, sensitive husband would KNOW that since motherhood was my most important gig would go to great lengths to make it special. Even though we were next to broke, struggling to pay the rent in our apartment, manage our finances and still spend lots of money on credit cards because that was what we thought grown-ups did.

Anyhow- I woke up that first mother's day morning to.....................nothing. Surely, I thought, there must be something exciting in store. I'll just bet he has something terribly romantic and wonderful in store for later in the day.

He must KNOW that this is only the most important day in the world. I am sure he must KNOW that since motherhood is what I do 24 hours a day and it has totally transformed me into another person, an obsessed-with-diapers-and-breastfeeding he must know and recognize the enormous sacrifices and commitments I have made on behalf of my body and my sanity to produce this perfect child who also probably KNOWS it's mothers day and is really just wishing she was old enough to type so she could order flowers from FTD.com and write a sonnet or something.

As the day progressed, I began dropping hints. I discovered that he hadn't gotten his mother anything yet. Hmmm, I hope you don't think that's my job. This better not mean you forgot me, too. You didn't forget me, did you.

No way, the optimist in me says. There's no way he could forget. Do I forget to feed our child? Have I forgotten the supreme importance of motherhood during any fraction of a second for the past year or more?

Then it hits me. I must be a terrible mother. He doesn't feel that I'm worthy of recognition. I'm a failure, that must be it.

So I cry. He doesn't notice, so I go cry near him and make sure he notices.

In his wayward attempt at an apology, he informs me that he's taking me out for dinner tonight. With his family.

That was the last straw. No card, no flowers, no breakfast in bed, nothing. Then, insult of insults, he had the nerve to make me share my first mother's day dinner with his mother, who he didn't even remember to get a card for.

I think if I had been acknowledged at any time throughout the day I would have appreciated the idea of dinner out with his family. Not on that day, however.

I freaked out. I put the baby in the car and drove up to the mountains to my favorite hiking place. I put her into my backpack and climbed around the mountain, crying into the wind.

I didn't go to the dinner, I left him to have dinner alone, hoping that when he explained my absence he'd get into some kind of trouble with his mother. She's a tough one, I was hoping she wouldn't let him get away with such a terrible thing.

It's been so long that I don't even remember how the rest of the evening transpired. These days, my girls are busy secretly sneaking art supplies and other items into their rooms. I'm looking forward to a vase full of dandelions. Even though it means I can't mow my lawn today.

My dear husband just informed the kids that this is Teacher's Appreciation Week, too. Why do teachers get an entire week? Who cares- at least he noticed.

And as I end this, let me direct you to a Mother's Day Contest I'm entering, at typeamom.net. Cool prizes, no dandelions.