Happy UnMother’s Day

Mother, on your special day, we’ve come to say – hope it’s special in every way! – Hallmark Greetings

“Honey, I called everywhere and can’t get reservations for brunch on Mother’s Day,” my husband said apologetically.

Good thing, I thought glumly, because the last thing I want to do on Sunday is to spend the morning monitoring my kids in an all-you-can-eat buffet line. The very thought gives me heartburn. Nagging my children to use their forks, sit up straight and stop kicking the table is not how I envision my special day.

It’s not that I don’t love spending time with my husband and kids, it’s just that my ideal meal wouldn’t include pigs in a blanket and three kids on a maple sugar high. I’d rather dine on yellowtail sushi at a table for one.

“I could cook a big breakfast and we could have a nice morning all together,” my spouse offered.

That’s the problem with Mother’s Day, I brooded. Everyone expects you to spend it in the blissful bosom of your family, surrounded by kids – just like every other day. I guess I don’t really want to celebrate Mother’s Day. I want to celebrate UnMother’s Day. It’s not that I don’t adore being a wife and mother, I do. But frankly, I embrace the joys of motherhood 364 days of the year. I’d like one day for me. For 24 hours, I’d like to forget that there are three people who owe their very existence to my reproductive powers. For just one day, I’d like to toss aside the mantle of motherhood and reacquaint myself with the person I was before I had kids. The freer, thinner, younger woman who blithely thought, “Yeah, three kids seems like a good idea.”

“We could go out for an early dinner,” my husband suggested.