Demented Mother’s Day Cards
Motherhood is traumatizing and I’m not discussing actual birth. I can’t imagine a more thankless job carrying such responsibility rearing a human being. I give women credit for signing up for this lifelong unpaid duty. This is one job at which I would never be successful and it would probably shorten my lifespan to age 50.
Additionally, I would be arrested for giving my kid too much independence, a là “free-range parenting” reminiscent of how I grew up in Queens. Could you imagine…”Wait officer, are you trying to tell me an 8 year old shouldn’t ride mass transit alone?” Or “So are you telling me bike helmets save lives? I didn’t have one growing up. I was just really careful.” In those days, I had glorious freedom and I turned out fine. Nowadays, the tables have turned.
Overall, mothers do their best raising children. Yet, most people have “issues” attributed to either their mother or father during their formative years. Some deal with issues by popping pills and some take to the analyst’s couch. I prefer to funnel my issues through humor. It took many years for my mother to comprehend my sense of humor because I am too honest, direct and cynical.
This is me at age 5. My issues with my mom started when she dressed me in this head-to-toe denim atrocity with embroidered roses, thick visible stitches and cheap metal buttons. Don’t be fooled those aren’t cool Converse, but some hand me down, no doubt. But boy I had moxie. Hands on my hips, gritting my teeth while a 45 MPH wind zipped through my pale hair. Screw you wind! I will remain standing on this shitty hill for a photo op. Oh if only The Fashion Protective Services were an actual enterprise. I would have been snatched up in minutes, only to be restyled appropriately and reluctantly given back to my mom with reprimand.
In last year’s Mother’s Day blog post, I discussed how I skip this holiday because I don’t believe in its commercialism. It took my mother years to finally understand that I show her my love and appreciation everyday, just not THAT one.
This year I decided to design some demented Mother’s Day greeting cards to send to my mother. A good reminder that putting me through art school paid off and affords me the freedom to address life’s issues. These cards are visual statements which our moms can treasure for years to come.
This card is perfectly suitable for women 40 and up. Don’t settle ladies. There is hope. Even if it is in the form of a male blow up doll.
This card is suitable for those who prefer pets over kids.
This card is suitable for those stressed out folks who find their mother’s phone voice like nails scratching across a blackboard.
Remember, you only get one mom. You can either love her or hate her. It’s a long road, but I choose love.