May is a challenging month at our house. In addition to travel and a healthy schedule of birthdays and graduations and anniversaries – my birthday is seven days before our wedding anniversary. And Mother’s Day is smack in the middle of both.
This was not so much an issue a few years ago. We love our Mothers. We love showing them we love them. But. Then. Someone told us they were pregnant. THE DAY BEFORE MOTHER’S DAY. When we’d been trying for five god-damn years. (Now seven.)
And unless you are Travis, I don’t think there’s another person on Earth who can remotely fathom what a colossal mind-fuck that was. Because he alone experienced the day that Mother’s Day died and became the holiday known as: The Week of Hateful Darkness Wherein Jules Ignores All Life.
I am getting better. I think. For the most part, the hate is a lot less intense. But I still don’t watch much tv. Or want go shopping. Or care to talk to people.
It’s hard avoiding a holiday that screams ‘HEY! Look at me! And all the wonderful things YOU DON’T GET TO HAVE. Ha-ha!’ like some gargantuan, retarded, one-eyed Cookie Monster who’s everywhere you look and everywhere you go. And whom apparently, feels the need to manifest in everyone you meet.
Under this constant barrage of words and images, I’ve never felt so much the urge to stab somone with a set of dull car keys as when I’m out trying to maintain my sanity doing normal everyday stuff – and a waiter or grocer or volunteer invades my crazy-space by handing me a carnation and wishes me a ‘Happy Mother’s Day’.
I don’t expect people to know I’m not a Mom by looking at me. I don’t expect them to understand why it pisses me off. I just expect them to not exist for a while.
So I stay home.
Message: Do not EVER hand Jules anything while saying ‘Happy Mother’s Day’. It could be chocolate, it could be diamonds. It doesn’t matter. You will still lose an eye. Say, ‘Happy Anti-Social Week’. Or ‘Happy Drink Until You Forget Your Name Day’. Just don’t say ‘Mom’. It’s safer for everyone.
© 2008, jules.maas. All rights reserved.
2 comments
Trackback e pingback
No trackback or pingback available for this article
It kills me to know you’re going through this, too. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.
I cried for days, too. It’s horribly wrong that someone else’s joy can suck all the color out of life and steal every happiness. But it does. We ‘celebrated’ our anniversary that year with the only comfort left – locked in the house with the phone turned off, eating pizza and washing the cars. In near total silence.
I miss you and think you’re fabulous, too! I’m so glad we’ve made this connection even though we didn’t hang out when we saw each other on a daily basis. Let’s keep it up!
Happy Drink-Till-You-Forget-Your-Name Day!
i feel your pain. paul and i are in the same boat and i’m pissed too. although i don’t have 7 years of disappointment, it’s still hard. i got the “we’re pregnant” bombshell this year on valentine’s day. i cried for two days. i miss you and think you are fabulous and i can’t believe we didn’t hang out more when we had the chance. happy belated anti-social week!