I use the entire Mother’s Day weekend.  On Saturday, we get together for a family and friends cookout.  We make the guys grilling heroes by letting them believe cooking burgers, brats and hot dogs is really creating a stress-free atmosphere for us and the planning, shopping and preparing of side dishes pale in comparison to the meat main attractions.  Then, on Sunday, the moms go shopping in Galena, Illinois, a town with a historic main street full of unique shops.  We browse a lot, buy a little and have lunch.  We leave early and get back too late to worry about laundry, dishes or dust.  The situation is win-win for everyone.

I encourage you to try something similar this Mother’s Day weekend.  Let your kids and husband “lavish” you on Saturday and make Sunday YOUR day (or vice-versa). If you don’t enjoy shopping or there aren’t any malls or quaint shopping areas in your area, plan to do something else you enjoy.   The key is to get away and remove yourself from anything which might tempt you from your Mother’s Day Off.

This tiny bundle had not only turned my life upside down but had also tapped emotions in me I had no idea even existed.  I felt tender, overwhelming love for my daughter.  However, I also felt this foreign, primitive, fierce protectiveness towards her.  The first time I experienced it my daughter was two months old.  I was walking home from the store while she slept peacefully in her stroller.   There was a man on the same side of the street walking towards us.  Although there was nothing obviously threatening about this man, I suddenly felt this huge adrenaline rush come roaring through my body.  I immediately thought, “If you touch my daughter I will hurt you!”  At that moment, I knew it was true.  I knew that at that point, I would have been capable of harming anyone who threatened my child. At the same time I was so startled by this feeling that I rushed home feeling confused and scared.   I not only didn’t know where this fierceness came from but had absolutely no control over it.  Conversely, I also felt strangely triumphant that I could protect my daughter.

Another day when my daughter was just a few months old and I was feeling particularly exhausted, a commercial came on that inflamed me.  A baby was sitting in his high chair and accidentally spilled his bowl of spaghetti dropping bright red sauce all over the kitchen floor.  The babies perfectly coiffed mother rushed over, smiled, and cleaned up the mess while cooing lovingly at her son.

I threw a pillow at the television and told my husband that THIS is one of the reasons that moms can feel so guilty about the silliest things.  We are expected to take on most childcare tasks, clean the house, cook dinner and work.  Yet, we feel guilty because sometimes we need time to ourselves.  In fact, we can feel guilty for having the simple desire to just go to the bathroom by ourselves!

I complained that society often portrays mothers as these perfect, ethereal beings who are not only perfectly dressed and styled at all times but who are also always patient and loving with their children no matter what the situation is.  Talk about pressure!  This is the dichotomy of motherhood.   On the one hand, mothers are capable of vast love, patience and fierce protectiveness towards their children.  On the other hand, those very same mothers are also capable of being frustrated and overwhelmed while silently dreaming of temporarily living somewhere by themselves with no screaming demands to be met or bottles to make.

After my second child I decided that, while I am a good mother,  there are days when I want to run away and hide.  I determined however, that I am okay with both of these sides of motherhood.  I am not going to feel guilty for being human.  I have vowed to do the best I can when I am able and to take ten minute deep breathing breaks in the bathroom when I am not.  I think accepting that I am not perfect has actually helped me be a better mom.  After all, I am not perfect and I don’t want my kids to grow up thinking they have to be either.