There's a new strain of sickness that really needs a good vaccination.
What's that? No, no...I'm not talking about the children. I'm fully talking about the much familiar, yet little talked about *mommy.run.away.itis*
It only affects moms. Go figure.
And now, since you are a mom, you are wondering if it's affected/ing you. Well, let me spare you the ominous 30 minute Google search resulting in random unrelated blisters and sores, and here's a simple look at the 3 kinds there are. If you have experienced any or all of these, well, it's time to do something drastic....which will probably include many buckets of Ben&Jerry's, likely a Cranberry's song and possibly a Twilight-a-thon. Like I said, drastic.
Scenario A) (also titled "limp pickle backbone")
Mom: *getting fed up with picking up everyone else's mess*..."I'm so done! I'm running away!" And promptly stomps (but not too loud as to wake up the sleeping baby), into the kitchen, looking over her shoulder several times to see if anyone is noticing, and then does a deflated sigh, as she plunges her hands into the bubbly sink water to finish up the dishes, while contemplating next weeks' meal plan in her head.
Scenario B) (also titled "mighty oak backbone")
Mom: *getting fed up with tidying up the house only to look behind her and find a tornado has apparently been following her every step and there is a disaster everywhere once again*... "I'm so done! I'm running away!" And promptly walks to the freezer, grabs the last of the Chocolate Therapy ice cream, her Kobo that's on the table, the heating pad in the basket, and possibly also the newest seasonal flavour of Palm Bay, and rushes like she's being chased by a tsunami up to her bedroom, clicks on her Scentsy that's filled with Baked Apple Pie melting wax (oh baby that's good!), presses the "ocean waves" setting on the white noise maker, and completely tunes out the sounds of metal bowls and spoons clanking on the kitchen floor and the rage invoking talking hamsters running across the hardwood downstairs.
Scenario C) (also titled "Balls of Steel backbone")
Mom: *getting fed up with doing it all day in and day out with little to no appreciation shown*..."I'm so done! I'm running away!" and promptly books one ticket to Mexico for 2 weeks, hands hubby the diaper bag and a good luck card upon arrival home from work, and passes out in her first class leather recliner.
If you can relate to any of these...it's possible that you (and likely even a mother you know!) are ailing from mommy.run.away.itis, and unfortunately, there's no cure. ALTHOUGH....I am on the edge of some breakthrough experimental trials, and I do think that PART of the cure COULD involve more of these:
"Yes mother, I'd love to sweep the floor"
"Wow, mom, you are truly more beautiful that the pearl of the Caribbean."
"I see all that you do Mom, and I would like to acknowledge that your dedication and sheer selflessness has moulded me into the wonderful human being that I am today."
"Here's a fat diamond ring Mom. Just because."
"Wifey, there is none that has lived or that evermore shall live who comes even close to the sheer magnificence of your humble majesty. Allow me to rub your feet with herbal oils and salts imported from the Dead Seas, while serenading you with the mariachi band I flew in from Me-hee-co."
Throw in some Ben&Jerry's, diamonds, maids for a week, and a spa getaway....I believe we may be getting close to a breakthrough.
Now, just to find a syringe to fit this all in....
This is a lovely reminder that tomorrow is MOTHER'S DAY. And yes, even though Hallmark will make a killing...EVERY day should really be mother's day. Cause Mothers...simply...are...fabulous. And they deserve every single word of praise, acknowledgement, and love that you can think up. So go ahead and love on those special ladies, for all the seen and unseen things that they do every.single.day.
And just so that it's been said...and not to brag...but totally bragging...I have THEE best mom. So, tomorrow, when you give your Mom the card that says "For the World's Greatest Mom"...much appreciation if you'd insert a tiny little "2nd" in between World's and Greatest. She'll appreciate your honesty. Mom's like that stuff. And if she doesn't, and kicks you out of her basement...well, it was probably time you move out anyways, you big mooching 40 year old.
Much loves,
