I'm going to voice what is probably a wildly unpopular opinion.
I've always marched to the beat of my own drum, so I don't mind, but you might need to brace yourself.
Ready? Here goes:
This Mother's Day.....what I want most in the world....is to get the hell away from my kids.
That's right. No need to read that last line again. I said it. I'll own it.
I don't want a macaroni necklace, a fancy Pandora bracelet, or breakfast in bed. I don't need an $8 Hallmark card to prove how much my family loves and appreciates me.
I don't need any more reminders that I'm a mother.
It is literally etched on my skin.
For the past 4.5 years, I have been knee deep in the trenches of motherhood. I have been pregnant and/or nursing for most of that time, which means that my body is a perpetual reminder that I am a mother. The stretch marks, the loose skin, and the leaky breasts are indelible tethers to my role.
The dark circles, that have permanently taken residence under my eyes, and the haphazardly braided (unwashed) hair, that now comprise my daily uniform, serve as further reminders.
No. On Mother's Day, I don't need any reminders of my role as the mother to two little boys.
I need freedom.
I need to put on a cute outfit with no fear of maple syrup or snotty noses ruining it.
I need to toss every Mickey DVD out the windows of my minivan, and peel out of the driveway with reckless abandon.
I want to crank up the radio and blast the 80's classic rock songs that I know and love.
I need to roll the windows down and let the wind wildly dance through my hair.
I want to shed the shackles of responsibility and to-do lists. I want to live as if I did not have a care in the world.
I want to explore hidden gems in my city. Places where a double stroller won't even fit through the front door. Maybe find a secret coffee house where the hippie and writer elite, rub elbows, and pen their next great novels. I want to have an actual, adult conversation with the barista or fellow patrons. I want to sip my hot chocolate and watch them all interact. I want to breathe every little bit of it in. To resuscitate and revitalize my own hopes of being a writer.
For Mother's Day, I want to remember the person I was before I had my beautiful babies.
I want to remember that I am so much more than a mom. I need to know that under this scraggly, vagabond-looking exterior, that passion and zest for life is still there.
That I'm still there.
I promise that when I have my break, I'll come back.
I'll be happy, and refreshed, and recharged.
I will be ready to take on the endless laundry, the sleepless nights, and the clingy toddlers again; with
For 4.5 years, I have invested my mind, body, and soul into two beautiful, little boys. And I wouldn't change a bit of it. I adore them. They are working tirelessly to make me into a better person.
They must think I am a diamond in the rough. They have taught me to be patient, flexible, and kind to everyone. They have shown me that there is beauty to be found everywhere, I just need to look for it. They have proved to me time and again that the difference between an ordeal and an adventure is my attitude.
And I am so grateful for this journey. I just need a breather.
You guys can make me a macaroni necklace while I'm gone.
If you need me, I'll be sipping my hot chocolate at the coffee house.