A Journal of our Journeys

Mother’s Day Blues

Caution: This post contains melodramatic material.

Sometimes being the wife of a chef is pretty cool.  Like the time Alton Brown came into his restaurant, and I got to tell everyone that my husband cooked dinner for Alton Brown. Or the many times that he managed to make a delicious dinner out of seemingly useless ingredients the day before payday.

Other times, being a chef’s wife really stinks. Mother’s Day is one of those times. Don’t get me wrong. I love being a mom, and I love the adorable homemade cards that come with it.  But what I want most on Mother’s Day is to be with my family.  Unfortunately, Mother’s Day is one of the busiest days of the year for a restaurant.  In the 6 years that I’ve been a mom, he’s never been able to take it off.  Of course, he can’t get Father’s Day off either, so sometimes things stink all around.

This year has been a little better because I’ve been able to spend it with my family, for a change. I got my hubby up early this morning so we could take his mom out to breakfast, which was really nice, and a treat, since we usually don’t get to see her at all on Mother’s Day.  After breakfast I took the hubby back home so he could get ready for work, and I went on to church.  At church the kids gave roses to the moms, and all the mothers were recognized and blessed by the preacher.  After church my parents, my son, and I  had a picnic lunch with my grandparents, aunts, and cousins . So it hasn’t been a bad day.  In fact, it’s been a very good day. If it was any other day, I would feel very content. But it’s not any other day, it’s Mother’s Day, which means it’s my day, but half of me is gone.

I am well aware that I am just feeling sorry for myself, and that my life is very blessed. I know there are some mothers who have lost their children, mothers whose partners are away on active duty, or are on active duty themselves, or a countless number of other reasons why I should stop complaining. So I’m not trying to ruin anyone else’s day by weeping openly everywhere I go, and I’m certainly not looking for sympathy from anyone.  But no amount of rationalizing makes me feel any better, in fact, it tends to make me feel worse. So, since this is my blog, and my day, I’m going to go ahead and have this pity party.

Please tune in to the following posts for cheerier topics.

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