Today is Mother’s Day and all my mom friends are going to be getting breakfast in bed, foot rubs, spa gift cards, and bouquets of flowers. That’s great and all, but what about me!? I take care of Ellie all day, every day. I make her food and feed her. I put her down for naps (which I busted my butt to be able to do). I dress her, read her books, and take her for walks. Play dates, mallwalking, story time, I do it all. I cook, I clean, and I do the laundry. So I have one question. Where’s my freakin’ flowers!?

I kept forgetting it was Mother’s Day. I just kept thinking it was my day coming up. Online I’d see advertisements about entering to a win a spa trip for Mother’s Day. That sounds really nice, I’d think. I wanted to enter, but for me. Oh yeah, I’m not a mom. I saw on Facebook where people were asking questions, “what are you doing for Mother’s Day?” I’d almost reply and realize, oh yeah, they don’t want to hear from dads. Ugh, I deserve this day just as much as real moms do, don’t I?

But before all of you moms start throwing tomatoes at me, I did realize something. There are big differences between moms and dads. For one, breastfeeding. I can’t breastfeed. Only Aya can do that. Only moms. I didn’t have to hook myself up to a milking machine while I was at work to keep up a supply. Aya did that, and for over a year! That’s impressive. I did have a friend tell me that he read somewhere that men can lactate when pushed in dire situations. I had never heard of that, but decided to take his word for it. I was too worried to see what would come up when I Googled “lactating man.” Lucky for me, I wouldn’t need to find out.

Also, women have to carry the baby inside them for forty weeks with forty or so extra hormones. Aya’s hormones made her belly itchy. She’d walk around the house scratching her belly like a mad woman. “Arrrgh… my belllyyyy!!!” Her belly looked like a werewolf had attacked her. She also had to pee every thirty seconds. Not to mention the heartburn, being chronically tired and emotional for no apparent reason, back pain, leg spasms, and random people grabbing her belly. The toughest thing I had to do was go to Meijer and buy supplies for the birth, which consisted of strawberries and adult diapers. What a combo. Oh yeah, and ask my mom if she had any panty liners. Puke.

Not only do women carry the baby for forty weeks, they have to push it out too. This task alone is worth having a whole day dedicated to mothers. I remember that day all too well. Aya groaning in pain like an injured walrus. I couldn’t imagine the pain she was going through, but she did it. It’s amazing how women can do that. All us guys have to do is say, “you’re doing great sweetie… push.”

So whether or not you are a stay-at-home mom, a working mom, a single mom, or a grandma, just the fact that you went through pregnancy and birth makes Mother’s Day your day. Not only that, but there is something completely unique to a mother’s touch. Whether you’ve physically carried the child or breastfed or not, moms have a special bond with a child that is all their own. Nobody else can do what you do. Especially us dads. The unconditional love a mom can give is totally different from a dad. It just is. I see it all the time when I’m around my mom friends. I can’t do what they do. I might be able to do all the “mom tasks”, but I’m not mom. It’s no wonder that on Mother’s Day there are always brunch specials, dinner specials, and spa packages while all dads get are neck ties and hammers. It’s much deserved to you moms.

I’m very lucky to have the mom that I do that loves me and supports me unconditionally. She sets a good example of how to not only be a good mom and a parent, but a person as well. And I’m lucky to have Aya as my wife who is a great role model to Ellie. She shows Ellie how to be a confident, compassionate, and loving person. I love you both.

And to all you Moms out there, Happy Mother’s Day!!! Enjoy your day (and your flowers), you deserve it!!!

Next month for Father’s Day, hopefully I’ll get a T-Shirt and eat a bottomless plate of pancakes from IHOP.

Just sayin’…

2 thoughts on “WHERE’S MY FLOWERS?

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.