This is the first Mother’s Day I’ve spent alone. Sure, there have been some without my husband, but there were other family members to fill the space. This year, it’s just me and Grunt. I’m not sure how this makes me feel.
This last 6 weeks have been a test of my perseverance and my resilience. I started my new job on the same day MiniSir deployed for 6 months. Grunt started day care for the first time that day too. And that’s where it fell apart:
The day home Grunt was in decided he was not a good fit 6 hours after receiving him that morning. Without giving him (or I) time to adjust, I had to pull him out. This resulted in me taking what should have been my 3rd day at my job off so I could interview other care options. I called my Mum in a panic, and bless her heart, she flew out on a few hours notice to help with Grunt’s care until I found a place.
That first weekend, we all got gastro. Then I sold our house. I got a mortgage pre-approval. I chose a new home. Then the day care I had chosen stopped returning my calls – in fact, it’s been 4 weeks and I still haven’t heard back from them. Then we started the process of getting Grunt tested for ASD. Then we hadn’t sold our house after all as the buyer backed out (after it passed the inspection with no issue).
Then I finally found a third day care. Then Charlie got a raging fevered flu. Then we all got colds. Then he started day care again. Finally. Then I had a wonderful night out with friends to celebrate an important Regimental anniversary. Then my Mum left. A friend I thought cared for me just dropped off the face of the earth. And then Charlie got sick again.
This has been my life. I have wished on stars, sat in the moonlight and released my energy, started hitting the gym every day, started a low-carb diet… basically whatever I can think of to try and get out this rut of crazy mindless energy spiralling in the toilet bowl of life. And I figured I was on top of changing my life to more positivity and moving forward…
And then it was Mother’s Day, a concept that a limited-verbal ASD toddler would not understand if I hit him over the head with it. Because I’m a “big girl panties on and deal” kind of woman, I bought myself a nice treat for Sunday’s supper (fresh fish) and I plan on making the most of it after a trip to the liquor store.
It sure would be nice to have someone to share it with other than my food disordered son, but at least we can share a table while he eats his peanut butter toast.
I wouldn’t change being a mother for anything in the world. Sometimes it’s harder than anything I’ve ever done, and I say that, having also recovered from being crushed by an armoured truck. Important days, days like Mother’s Day, tend to highlight the loneliness of being the one left to keep the homefires burning. I hope this Mother’s Day that you all get spoiled (or spoil whomever you call “mom”). We deserve it.