Weekly WTF
My Mother’s Day was fine. The weather was decent and I was able to mostly do whatever I wanted, which included puttering around the garden, planting a bunch of annuals in pots, and taking a long bath. I changed zero diapers, and reminded my kids on multiple occasions that they could take their arguments about someone’s errant elbow elsewhere because it was MY DAY.
But every year, I find myself bitch-texting my friends about how the day feels woefully inadequate given the bullshit that moms are forced to tolerate in this country every goddamn day, and while I’ve always low-key hated Mother’s Day, this year it felt like a slap in the face. Let’s celebrate the special moms in our lives but let’s fight tooth and nail to repress their right to make decisions about their own bodies. Let’s shower mom with love but let’s not address the appalling epidemic of Black maternal mortality. Let’s definitely not make mom’s day a little sunnier by renewing the Child Tax Credit. Let’s spoil mama but let’s not invest any funding in research to understand the barest basics of the pelvic floor.
Starting in late March, my promotions folder began to slowly bulge with empty promises. Companies suggested mom be “treated” with this bath oil or this cooler or this floral dress, and honestly, fuck them all.