Another Mother's Day gone. My mother gave me a book. My husband? Nothing. Nothing from the kids (well, a cute card Boo made for me at preschool), nothing from him.
No sleeping in. No breakfast, in bed or out somewhere. No cute little card. No silly little present. No nothing.
I don't know why I'm not used to this total lack of ability to show appreciation. You'd think, after 8 years of it, that I would be. But every year, it's like getting kicked in the head all over again. I've talked to him about it, I've explained that I don't need a big gift, but I need to at least feel appreciated. Like maybe what I'm doing matters a little bit. And he nods and he says he understands and he says he'll try harder next time and then the next time rolls around and I get the shaft again.
I'm tired of always being disappointed by my life. I wish I could figure out how not to care, how to just shut off that part of me so that I wouldn't have to feel so hurt all the time.
I keep thinking there must be some fundamental fault in me that lets others treat me that way. That somehow I must show that I don't deserve to get treated nicely, that I must be doing it all wrong otherwise people would appreciate me a little bit. I know I can't be fucking it up entirely - my kids are healthy and mostly happy. So why does it continue to be OK to treat me like I'm a nonentity? Like what I want or need is so low on the list of priorities that it may as well not be on there at all? How come the only people who ever show me any affection are all under 4 feet tall?