Ouiser here, and I feel a rant coming on.
Now that the Mother's Day dinners have been consumed, the flowers are starting to droop a bit and the chocolate is starting to melt, let's get down to the nitty gritty here. In the past couple of weeks, I've been reading the local paper at work (as usual) and on Sundays in the Life section(front page of it no less) there is a local columnist who is a relatively new mom herself.
Now that's all fine and dandy, great! But she complains a lot. Or at least she has in the last two articles I've read of hers. Perhaps I'm just reading too much into it or making it out to be a bigger deal than it is. Sadly, the paper doesn't link to the article in question, but the gist of it is that the woman wants a vacation from her kid.
She spends the entire column whining about how she wants to get away, doesn't want to be a parent for a day etc etc blah blah blah. This week she finally gets her way and spends Mother's Day AWAY from her child. Awww she feels SAD about this.
Newsflash sweetheart. We KNEW what we were getting into the minute we saw that second line appear on the pregnancy test. Your life is no longer your own. Sleep? Fuggetaboutit. Girls Nights Out? Goodbye! *unless you're like me, and never went on those ANYWAY, but I digress). The point is. WE KNEW.
There are no sick days, no vacations, no pay when you become a mommy. If you have a spouse or a significant other, yes they will (theoretically) pick up the slack when you get sick, but guess what? Unless you're on your deathbed, YOU ARE STILL MOMMY and BABY will still need and want you regardless of whether you're sneezing, snotting, shitting or hacking your brains out. YOU ARE A MOTHER. Life doesn't stop just because you have popped a kid out of your hoo-ha and it doesn't go back to the way it was afterwards either.
We KNEW this. For someone to whine and complain to get their way and then be all sad because they got what they wanted just literally makes me ill. There is a difference between venting and just flat out constantly complaining and then for all intents and purposes running away for a weekend which happens to be the very weekend you are celebrated BECAUSE you're a mom!
Don't get me wrong, there are times that I'd love to just crawl into a hole with a blanket, a flashlight and a book and just be left alone. This usually occurs when The WeeMan is showing his muscle in what we like to refer to as "99 Ways to Make Mommy Lose Her Schmidt'. This usually occurs right about the time I get home from work in the morning and he doesn't want to eat, doesn't want to sleep, wants to play play play, get into everything, bang on the walls with his toys. But the second he puts those chubby little arms around my neck and wraps those legs around me in a big bear hug, who cares if the floor is food covered and he's just stripped down to his diaper because he hates clothes? Not me. He may drive me crazy at times but you know what?
I wouldn't change that for the world.