Here's to the Fringy Mom

A few days ago the United States celebrated Mother’s Day.  Which meant that our facebook feeds, television commercials, and alexa updates were filled with pictures of moms and their kids, grandmas and their grandkids, flowers, gratitudes, smiles and all things mother-y.  We heard about how moms care, nurture, always believe, always support, are gushy and smushy and all things comforting. 

In recent years, there’s been an influx in the recognition that mother’s day isn’t always a pretty, warm and fuzzy kind of day, so our facebook feeds, television commercials, and alexa updates have also been filled with reminders of those moms who are grieving, those children who didn’t have great moms, those children who are grieving, those women who desire children but by fluke of nature have been left with empty arms.

I’m glad to celebrate my mom.  She’s amazing.  I’m glad that people are remembering that it can also be a painful day.  But, I kinda feel that there’s a large segment of us who, per usual, get forgotten.  And so, in one small token of compassion to try to balance the scales, I say to you:  Here’s to the Fringy Moms!

Here’s to the mom who watched the sun rise on Mother’s Day after yet another sleepless night with their fringy kid.

Here’s to the mom who received a heartfelt, lovingly thoughtful Mother’s Day card only to have hateful words spewed at them minutes later in the midst of her child’s meltdown.

Here’s to the mom who woke with a gnawing in her stomach as she knew a day of celebration frequently triggers sensory and emotional overload.

Here’s to the mom who diligently took her anti-depressant and anti-anxiety medication to help her stave off the effects of the PTSD she has developed after years of medical, mental, and combative crises with her children.

Here’s to the mom who finished “her” day by restraining her overloaded child for 45 minutes to keep everyone in the family safe.

Here’s to the mom who is forced to advocate louder, push farther, and research more than she ever wanted to.

Here’s to the mom who experienced the luxury of relaxation for a couple of hours on Mother’s Day only to pay for it later with a dysregulated kid.

Here’s to the mom who spent Mother’s Day completing yet one more round of paperwork to get the treatment, or funds, or services, or assessments that their child desperately needs.

Here’s to the mom who feels completely disconnected from their kid because she only gets to see the worst of them as they decompress after days spent holding it all together.

Here’s to the mom who longs to hear her child speak, even just one word, especially just the one word, “mom”.

Here’s to the mom who kinda hates her mothering journey right now.  Who dreams of running away.  Who feels like she can’t take one more step forward, but somehow keeps showing up.

Here’s to the mom who grieves for the mothering experience she envisioned for so many years, but will never be a reality.

Here’s to the mom who silently works behind the scenes, 24-hours a day, doing all the things a mom needs to do to keep her differently wired family running somewhat smoothly.

Here’s to the mom who got “the look” while out for Mother’s Day brunch because her children weren’t behaving in a conventional manner.

Here’s to the mom who felt judged on Mother’s Day because her family, friends, neighbors, strangers, don’t understand why and how she has to parent differently than how they would parent.

Here’s to the mom who, even when being celebrated, never gets the day off.

Here’s to the mom who just wants one day to be able to be flawed and emotionally dysregulated and let her guard down without it triggering a complete nuclear family reaction.

Here’s to the mom who is stronger than she ever knew, loves without getting anything back, keeps showing up even when others don’t see her.

Here’s to the fringy mom.