When I became a mother, I made “rank” to enjoy the benefits of the ultimate holiday for all mothers: mother’s day. From that day forward, it was up to my husband and kids to honor this day and to never forget it for the rest of their lives.

New to motherhood, I thought that I was supposed to feel different on mother’s day; kinda like I was waiting for something to happen but it never did. The day didn’t feel any different to me. I still had to get up and take care of the kids just like any another day. Lots of times I found myself periodically looking up to the sky like as if I were waiting for a sign from above to appear, like an airplane flying by with a specialized banner made just for me that read, “Hey Leanne, Happy Mother’s Day,” but there was no such luck. So I wondered to myself, when the hell am I supposed to feel like a true “Queen” on mother’s day?

As the kids got older and were in school, mother’s day started to feel like something to me. The cherished gifts they made for me that touched my heart, like the handmade cards with love notes inside, the numerous bouquets of paper flowers, plants, magnets and drawings were the start to finally feeling something different.

But, it always seemed like even though I was a mother, I still felt the pressure of making the “other mothers” in my life that were of “higher rank” first in line on mother’s day before myself. Yup- my life would be a living hell if, I didn’t make “the rounds” and pay my respects to them on mother’s day. So once again, my queen for the day recognition was put on the back burner because they had seniority over me.

Through the years, mother’s day seemed to take its toll on me.  From what I experienced, there was no other day of the year where more “guilt trip spells” were cast out to the world than on mother’s day. At this point, I felt like I was lied to by everyone about mother’s day because I was slowly figuring out that this day was never gonna be my own until the higher rank mothers honored me and allowed me to be part of the team. . . And we all know that wasn’t gonna happen anytime soon. I remember getting so mad one day while picking out mother’s day cards, to the point where I had to leave the store because frickin Hallmark was pissing me off. “When you care enough to send the very best” is bullshit, especially to a rookie mother, because the love these cards were sharing was something I sure as hell wasn’t feeling.

One day while looking at the calendar I became aggravated because mother’s day was quickly approaching, so I poured myself a glass of wine and I said, “Why the hell does mother’s day have to be so damn complicated? And when the hell am I ever gonna make queen for the day?” As I sat and pondered these questions, a loud voice from above said, “Start makin the announcement and things will change.” So I stood up from my chair, held my wine glass up high and said, “That’s it, I’m makin’ the announcement!” It was the bitch slap I needed to start honoring myself as a mother, because if I don’t then no one else will. I then blew a kiss to the sky and said, “Thanks Mother Nature, as always, you have my back.” She is one woman that makes it her quest in life to make sure that no mother is left behind. From that day forward I decided that I’m makin’ the announcement to everyone that mother’s day is now going to be done my way.

As mother’s day countdown approached, I began making the announcement to my husband and kids (because I care enough to send the very best) by giving them clues as to how I expected my “queen for the day” extravaganza to be played out; and I wasn’t gonna settle for anything less than the ultimate Hallmark experience. So I said, “Read my lips people, next Sunday is mother’s day so not only do I want to ‘feel’ the love, I want to ‘see’ the love. So you’ve got one week to get your shit together. And all I can say is, God help you if  you don’t all pull through because not only will I never let you live it down, Mother Nature won’t either and she’s one broad you don’t want to cross, now get to work!”

Back in the day, like most new mother’s, I took whatever was given to me and did whatever I had to do to make the day special for everyone by sacrificing  myself because I was new in the game. But after I started making the announcement, life changed. I got what I wanted and became the queen of my mother’s day.

And so my dear sisters, let me leave you with one final announcement: May you be honored for the mother you are with the ultimate gift, the “Hallmark Gold Crown”, the official queen for the day pass that defines the true meaning of a mother, “When you care enough to send the very best.”

Happy Mother’s Day, Cheers!

On those “special occasion moments” that life throws out to us, sometimes there aren’t enough swear words to say or enough wine to drink.

           When a woman is in the heart of multi-tasking her life by raising a family, working, cooking, cleaning, and also tending to all the other numerous required obligations that suck the life out of her, looking into the mirror and saying to herself, “I’m just livin’ the dream” is one of biggest lies she can tell herself straight to her own face. How many times do we lie to ourselves throughout the day just to make it through, by repeating the words, “I’m just livin’ the dream”?

             I, myself have a hard time telling a lie to anyone, especially to myself. When I feel that I am telling myself a lie, I use this technique that I made up myself and the truth always prevails. All you have to do is stand in front of the mirror with a martini in hand, take a sip, look deep into your eyes and allow the martini bitch in you to tell you just how life really is, like for instance, “I’m sick and tired; my life is a fricken nightmare!” Now with that being said you know damn well there’s a hell of a lot more where that came from. And now the next question is, so what’s a girl to do? Well, the only way to stop sick and tired dead in its tracks is to do something quick and powerful by making a statement that is short and sweet like, “Girls night!” Usually after a night out with the girls that consists of mega amounts of food, booze and plenty of bitching and moaning, our soul becomes awakened to bust a move on our life.

          Yes, it’s the shit that happens on girls’ night that helps a woman regain consciousness from the brain dead sabbatical she’s been on ever since she crossed over to the side of the hood that put her on the verge of insanity: motherhood. Once again, it’s our sisters to the rescue to coach us through the hard labor that sick and tired causes. All it takes is a few rounds of liquid confidence for a woman to get her game on and she is smokin’ hot to make a short and sweet balls of fire move. Now she can take on the world and give the ones she loves a short and sweet life lesson that hits hard right below the belt. Here are a few of the short and sweet lessons that some of my sisters have done after a girl’s night that gave them their mojo back:

Sister Number One: told her mom that she is no longer allowed to babysit her grandchildren because she feels that she has totally over stepped her boundaries by interfering and telling her what to do with the way she chooses to raise her family.

Sister Number Two: went home and packed her thirty year old son’s clothes in garbage bags and put them outside with a sticky note that read, “No Vacancy.”

Sister Number Three: came home one night to find her daughter and about ten of her looser boozer friends playing beer pong on the patio. She looked at them, didn’t say a word and walked in the house and retired to her bedroom. After about fifteen minutes the cops showed up to break up the party and everyone had to go home. Little did they know that it was Mommy Dearest in the bedroom who tipped off the cops to break up their gig.

Sister Number Four: strolled in quietly one evening to find everyone fast asleep. As she went in her daughter’s room to kiss her good night in the crib she found a shitty diaper open on the rocking chair in her room. At this point she took a deep breath picked up the diaper and placed it on her husband’s pillow just the way she found it…..open.

Short and sweet and right to the point; it’s the stuff that dreams are made of!

       Once again my dear sisters may the truth set us free by ending this story full circle right back to where we started by looking into the mirror with a martini in hand, taking a sip, looking deep into our eyes and allowing the martini bitch to give us the straight up truth with, “I’m just livin’ the dream!”