On Mother’s Day

First off, let me say that I think Mother’s Day is a load of happy horse shit, and previous observances have found me in the kitchen, unloading and reloading the dishwasher, making coffee, feeding the cats, and being the only grown up awake and parenting.

Secondly, owning a pet is not the same thing as raising a child, unless you are doing both of them wrong. Sorry you feel left out, but until you are responsible for creating a functioning and contributing member of a civil society, you are not a parent. Your dog is not a child. Your cat is not a child. Your plant is not a child. National Pet Parent’s Day is in April. (I didn’t name it that.)


This was pretty excellent, though.

Finally, I began Mother’s Day 2016 630 miles from home after attending a friend’s graduation, and I mothered by text. My husband was home with our son, sleeping while the boy played Minecraft. At 10 o’clock, I told him to get Daddy up as breakfast should probably happen, and try as I might, I have not passed my Apparition Test. “If it helps, tell him I’m mad,” I told him.

It helped.

So yeah, Mother’s Day is generally kind of lame. But if you really want to get me something, I’d like affordable child care for working families; paid maternity leave; access to high-quality medical care for women including birth control, abortion services, pre-natal and natal care; equal pay; standardized voting procedures including eradication of voter ID laws; legal control over my own body; and a Lego Death Star.