Happy Mother’s day! Here’s another paean although you might find it ~bitchy.If you l’Ove motherhood and mothers, this post isn’t for you.

This one to those waveforms called mothers, or ‘moth-ers’, those we turn to to light and guide us -while we’re in their footsteps.I’m speaking to my reality.


Today is a day for flowers and gifts as we celebrate those who “chose” to swell for us. Distorting their bodies as they give, sacrifice, and scrape for us on the altar of motherhood leaving their bodies, soft, spent, saggy with arches collapsed. Some whose breasts dripped for months or even years to appease the child who didn’t wean. We celebrate those who have no boundaries.

So far, society thinks of mothers as the one who “creates” the family, which patriarchy provides. She is in charge of shopping and stocking, creating meals from some variety of scratch and cans, cleaning and laundry. She picks up after the cats and dogs.At least she’s not still ironing much.

Since I didn’t get aborted I”m here writing today. Even though she maybe could have, my mother did “choose” to bear me though there’s evidence it wasn’t by her design. In our family she got prego after my father, still officially married, swept her off her feet with his good looks and charm. (Charm is focused attention. Until then she thought herself an ugly duckling).

The latter was so new, she was impossibly smitten. In reality they trauma bonded. Both had deep insecurities. I’ll leave out the details.

Even after she was long divorced, she still yearned to hear of him and his stories- even of his new family and wife. As a result, that was the last thing I wanted. It made no sense on a planet of billions, to be solely focused on any single 3D (male) waveform so fixedly! I truly believed she had an even better match somewhere else- she just had to meet and find him.

(And we know how that’s going- I’m in exactly the same predicament about someone I neither know, would not actually have desired, and barely find attractive having been intrusively “possessed” by a love daemon entity stemming from the words emanated by a particular 3D waveform entity.)

As a mother myself, I have to say, at least for now, being one is hardly worthwhile.

Being the bearer of my ex’s crown jewels has brought few, if any, benefits. My kids, now both almost in their third decade, have less to do with me than with their grade school teachers. We have little in common and less to talk about.
I suppose I should feel success – after all, I did raise authentic ‘warriors’ not dependent pansies.I was not a helicopter parent by any stretch of imagination. Though I was ~forced to when one got special titles.

Other than when I was forced to intervene because of “infractions” at school, I was often ~live and let live. I let them make mistakes. I didn’t jump in and solve challenges in their life – which they themselves created. Furthermore, as a natural nitpicker (like my mother and grandmother) I could always see “room for improvement” – in myself especially, though in them too.Those insights weren’t welcome.

By my example, my kids saw me as a doormat, someone to walk all over and spit on occasionally.
Now I know better, I’m finally becoming me. And this they hate especially as my new self is quite different from anyone they once knew. In this way, I am unpredictable.

And they have no respect for “woo-woo” of any variety. From their (little) left brain’s exclusive one-eyed focus on tangible measurements, I’m totally unacceptable as an astrologer or ~blogger who’s not making any money.

As a result, visits, and calls are exclusively about them and their ~toxic self-made social situations. They both embody my ex’s sense of righteous entitlement and superiority – and project their unacceptable bits onto others.

There is ~no way I can meaningfully contribute, so know I’m the sounding board that listens- for hours sometimes- even when I try to break off. Then I’m called self-centered. After all, my time isn’t worth anything; I’m supposed to always be free – especially since I’m “retired”.


Today I’m going to spend time with one of them (Inshallah).

Fortunately I won’t be feted with an overly rich meal surrounded by strangers such as going to a Mother’s Day brunch in a restaurant. I’m done stuffing my face to excess as I sit stress eating and drinking champagne in the morning!


Instead we’re going to see “the Devil wears Prada 2”. This was my son’s idea.I did watch the first one over and again; I l’Oved its caustic humor and it’s PG-rated.


Going to the movies is an ultimate in “parallel play”. We won’t interact with each other – but with a silver screen unless we share popcorn. Afterwards there will be little time for discussion as he’s off to the airport

In the theater I’ll wear a mask – which effectively silences me. If I’m disciplined, I won’t get popcorn. My son has scheduled himself down to the minute and makes sure I know about any pennies he’s spending! We’re going to the noon matinee.

My eldest and I aren’t in relationship.

*


For my children I wish them happiness and success – on their terms of course -and according to their personal ‘blueprints’. Truthfully, each are finding their own version which look quite different.

With motherhood’s emphasis on ‘creating a homey atmosphere’ – It was neat for exactly 3 hours after my cleaning lady left. There’s always a mess to clean up or a drawer to organize. Unless it was crucial, I left it.

Unlike dad who is paid to do a particular activity and according to his bosses’ or client’s schedule- the latter he chooses, mom lives her life on a perpetual treadmill in a state of chaotic demands.

She gets off it to comfort feed herself – whether with phone calls, food or shopping, and if she’s militant – to exercise. But for that she’ll be judged by her own mother (martyr) and if not her, her mother-in-law – whose judgments are even harsher.

May the “temple of motherhood” really become a thing sooner than later, so mothers have more sense of support and meaningful community.

*

Update: the movie went well. Devil Wears Prada 2 once again has great costumes! The plot had savor. I was disciplined for the first time without popcorn. We shopped and had a lovely tea after the movie. Our visit was pleasant. The priceless part was being next to him and hug at the end. I l’Oved sharing nimble ideas – heart-to-heart without sharp edges.

Helpful feedback is welcome!

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