about last night

about last night: i wrote an absolutely out-and-out scathing post, a post about how angry i am. it was so screamingly angry that i deleted it.

days upon days upon days of little sleep are adding up to one major wiped-out woman on the verge of something. i couldn’t even sleep last night, even though the kids were in bed. i am just so wound up. so many people in this house are not sleeping for one reason or another. and when you’re the mom, you end up being the catcher of all this sleep deprivation, by default. even the best dads might sleep through things, but moms never do, unless they have been drugged or killed.

so there i was on the computer, and i was bombarded with messages about mother’s day: buy mom flowers. send mom a card. get mom jewelry. take mom out for a nice meal. now, i have no quarrel with getting my mother or my mother in law some token of appreciation for the day, and i certainly appreciate the cards and sometimes unidentifiable objets d’arte that my children make for me.

but there are times like today, yesterday, the day before, all last week… times when i just feel like everyone is sucking the lifeblood out of me. i work for my family. i work for the house. i work for the fucking WORLD. 24/7, whether it’s doing the dishes, or dealing with illness, or handling my exploding home, or helping my kids navigate through some crisis or another. i don’t get paid for it. i don’t get thanked for it. i sometimes don’t even think people realize what i do. but it’s all down to me. i am in charge of directing my family’s life.

and no one works for me.

in short, i don’t want mother’s day. i don’t need jewelry. i don’t need to go to the International Fucking House Of Putrid Food. and i don’t want any flowers.

what i want is mother’s life.

i don’t want to be appreciated on one day. i want to be appreciated every single day. i want people to notice that i never get a day off, much less a weekend. and i’m glad to do it, even though it wasn’t necessarily my first career choice. i am grateful i get to do it, too, all right? but i wonder sometimes whether it was the right choice for me.

the other day, we were talking about clothing, and BC said oh mama, you don’t need to ever wear suits. you are just not the suit kind. this child has no recollection of a time when i worked outside the home and wore something beyond sweats or jeans. this child thinks i live and breathe for her. and, through the choices i have made, helped along by my health predicament, i guess i do. or have done.and of course, i will continue to do so.

but i often wonder what sort of example i am setting for her. yes, dear: study hard, get a masters degree, and you, too, can become the floor upon which your family walks.

and of course, if i complain, i am ungrateful. ungrateful that there is a roof over my head, food on my table, and IVIG in my veins. what a shallow bitch, one might say. do you know that Susie or Sally have it SO. MUCH. WORSE. THAN. YOU. (yes. i know. thanks.)

but is self-preservation an unworthy goal?

i have just come from BC’s school. their big 5k training run is this morning; and while BS is running with BC on race day, BC asked me if i would run with her this morning. parents are not required this morning, but she wanted me to run with her. let me point out for the record: i hate running. but, i got suited up, rushed my kishkes around, and drove her there at 7:50 in the ayem. we get there — there must be about 50 girls there plus some parents. and there’s a huge circle being formed. girlfriend runs over to one of her friends as they make the circle. i walk over to stand beside her. no, mom, she says. you stand over there, and she points to siberia on the other side of this tremendous circle. no other moms or dads are being banished. they are all standing next to their respective daughters.something inside me just snapped.

nope, i replied. i’ll see you later then. good bye! and i walked away. and i left.

so yes, add that to the collection of why i am a bad mother.i’m not going to be treated like shit by any nine year old. i am not going to be treated like shit by any 40-something year olds, either. in short, i am no longer taking shit from anyone out there, related or not.

i am tired, tired and extremely angry. and appreciating me one day in may, a day where i will have woken up all cranky and cold because i will have slept overnight in a cabin devoid of electricity and indoor plumbing, courtesy of my little Girl Scout, will probably be too little too late. i appreciate every single person around me; at least, i appreciate the ones i’m related to — and certainly quite a few to whom i am not.
appreciate me now.


9 Responses to “about last night”

  1. I don’t think insisting on respect from your family makes you a bad mother (and, of course, neither do you). It’s so true, the level of taken-for-granted-ness gets out of control sometimes.

  2. Wreke,

    I swear, someday soon, Kelly and I are just going to drive by, drag you out of your house, and take you somewhere with lots of libations and appreciate the heck out of you. Your family will just have to deal.

  3. “nope, i replied. i’ll see you later then. good bye! and i walked away. and i left.”

    I’m brand new here, and I don’t know you, and I don’t know if that was the right thing to say or not, but oh, man, I was HOPING you were going to say that as I read, and you did. Because that’s what I would have said at that moment, to my 7-year-old, who is advanced for her age in the disregarding Mommy arena.

    I hope your family wakes up and starts appreciating you.


    Laurie @ Foolery

  4. Dear heart,
    I feel you. I do.

    You and I, let’s run away from the stupid plumbing issues and vampiric families and idiotic Mother’s Day Burdensome Festival of Emoting Gratitude Which Feels Like More Work When Really I’d Just Like to Curl Up With a Good Novel Like the Title Character in THE HOURS Will Everyone Stop Pulling At Me Please?

    Take my hand. Tahiti, a secluded cabin in the Monterey Bay peninsula..what’ll it be? I’ll nuke my own dinner and won’t try to talk to you as your read your novel. We’ll drink some pleasant alcoholic beverage of choice and get pleasantly snockered.


    PS Scientists agree: kids who diss mama have shorter lifespans than those who are appropriately appreciative.

  5. i. am. so there.

    and my beloved friends above, probably in similar boats? can i bring them? we can develop our own cones of silence. it will be magic.

    anywhere, sweetheart. anywhere. your coast or mine?

  6. Are you sure you’re not masquerading as me? Wearing a ‘dee’ body suit? That is so my life.

    You know what I hear a lot? In response to such complaints as ‘I never get any sleep’ or ‘Can you change a diaper?’ or ‘I’m so sick; can you please hold a baby?’…you’ll love this…”YOU’RE THE MOTHER.” I feel like wadding up my Master’s degree and shoving it down a certain someone’s throat.

    Really, honey. I.FEEL.YOU.

  7. oh man. i think a movement is afoot. or if it isn’t, it should be.

  8. […] wrekehavoc.com deus ex mama « about last night […]

  9. Ach, I appreciate you, wreke. I am *so* your compadre on this. I promised myself a loooong time ago I would not be a doormat. But I so love how you talked it through with your daughter, too… You have a huge heart. That is what you are modeling. (Hear ya about that master’s degree – maybe we should use them for wrapping paper for gifts for each other on our adventures?)!

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