Tagged: Mother’s Day

Happy Mother’s Day

Thank you to all of the mothers I know. Thank you to my mother, Tracy, for loving me unconditionally, for teaching me that getting lost can be the beginning of an adventure, that there’s always room for more people, that giving can be a calling. Thank you to my stepmother, Stephanie, for showing my weird little family unflinching love and acceptance, for having a bottomless well of energy, for giving me a second family filled with more siblings and more people to love. Thank you to my sister, Alyssa, for starting the next generation, for going through a difficult pregnancy and childbirth with stubborn strength, for sending me pictures of my niece regularly.

Thank you to all of the women writing on this blog. Each of them has shared beautiful stories of mothering that make me proud to be a part of this project. They are all different on the surface, but unapologetic in who they are. They have made me laugh, made me cry and made me happy that the internet exists. This has been an amazing experience and I’m excited for the future of this site.
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On Bullshit Holidays

Ah, here we are. Nearing the second weekend in May, which means we are nearing the second bullshit Hallmark holiday of the year: Mother’s Day. (The first, clearly, is Valentine’s Day, which is The Worst, without question.) (And, obviously, the third is Father’s Day.) Here, on this day, we are to honor our mothers by “letting” her take a break and giving her some flowers that are going to wilt within days and bring her breakfast in bed and maybe some chocolate, too. The OTHER 364 days in the year (or 365, if we’re celebrating Leap Year), your mom can suck it.
Before you start thinking that I’m some party-pooping-holiday-hater, let me assure that I am not. Real holidays are my fucking JAM. Halloween? DRESS UP AND CANDY! Thanksgiving? CAN I PLEASE MAKE THE PUMPKIN CHEESECAKE? Christmas? FOOD AND PRESENTS OMG. New Years? DRESS UP AND CHAMPAGNE! 4th of July? LET ME STAY INSIDE BECAUSE AIR CONDITIONING AND AMERICA. Is it my birthday? GIMME ALL DAT CAKE. So what’s my deal? Let me explain. Continue reading