As a warning: the following post is a bit sweary and drops an F-bomb or two. Not bad, but only fair to warn you as it’s not the norm here.
So. Today is my obligatory “Mothers Day” post. I haven’t had a lot to say that I really wanted to say publicly lately, and I’m not sure how this will go. But here we are.
I really like Mothers Day, primarily because I have a mom. I’m pretty grateful to modern medicine that I have a mom today; in 5 months we’ll find out if she’s once again cancer-free. Everything went well after her surgery so far and nothing new has materialized. So I’ve sent her a card (that won’t arrive on time – we’re a late sort of family) and I’ll call her on Sunday. So that is the best thing about Mothers Day.
On the other hand, I’m a bit ambivalent about Mothers Day for me. Mothers give birth to their children. That is what society tells us, all the time, in so many ways. I did not give birth to my child, but I get to raise her. M gave birth to our child, but she isn’t raising her. So society tells both of us that we’re not really mothers. Or that only one of us is – real mothers, make-believe mothers, and on and on and fucking ON.
Awkward mom memory for today: when A was in kindergarten, her class had a Thanksgiving party with a lot of parent “helpers” that showed up. At one point when the kids were at recess or something, some – it felt like all, but some – of the mothers went around and shared their birth stories. Now that was an awkward damn moment. I have no idea if I said anything at all; lots of that day are a blissful blank. That was the first time (of many, let me tell you) that I wanted to run and hide from a flock of wild parents.
From the time that A was a baby, she has known that she has two mothers and two fathers. We use “birth parents” out of convenience, primarily when there are non-family around, but in reality she has four parents. Sometimes some parents can’t always be there, but they’re always around. A is getting something for M this weekend along with a card.
For a while there, my blog was called “Evil Mommy”. It’s still my Twitter handle, by the way (come say hi! Lots of politics and cussing) It was based on how I felt about myself for quite a long time after we were placed. Like I wasn’t a Real Mom. Like I was the one who took a baby from someone else, which is both literally true and not exactly true. But that was how I felt. Lots of hours of therapy and writing later, it’s a little different. There are no Good Moms and Bad Moms here. I will cop to being more evil that I used to be, which isn’t such a bad thing when you think about it. Mean and evil are not quite the same things; ask Atticus at Evil Supply Company. There are just two moms out of four parents who have an amazing child in common.
Honestly, if it wasn’t for A I would say a hearty “fuck you” to Mothers Day here at the Goth House. But that would make at least two people (not named Mom) feel bad, and I’m not about that this weekend. So I need to come up with something that doesn’t involve going to the movies 3 times this weekend to see Civil War and cry over Bucky Barnes. Maybe a trip to the bookstore and a bottle of something or other. We’ll see.
Happy Mothers Day to all of you mothers. No matter what word you put in front of it.