mother's day in the trenches

Yesterday was Mother's Day and there was much pressure to be perfect, a day of "no fighting" while the kids were supposed to help King "keep the house straight" so that "Mommy can enjoy her day."  But, well, let's suffice it to say that my nose was rubbed into the fact that I am a mother.
Gray, rainy weather, non-stop bickering, recurring clutter, teenage power struggles, and the second day of a migraine stood in place of a the bright, sunny, flower spattered, rainbow-filled day that was the subject of the handmade cards I received.

Whatcha gonna do? 

Beg and plead, try to yell above the roars, or deliver long monologues of wisdom to set them straight like all the rest of the days of the year?  I think not.  Four ibuprofen, a 3 hour nap followed by hiding in a quiet room doing crossword puzzles was my only recourse. 

So, today we woke up to celebrate "Not-Mother's-Day" Day... a day filled with non-stop bickering, recurring clutter, teenage power struggles, and the third day of a migraine.  But somehow, in a way that only a licenced professional could explain, there are no expectations for perfection.