The 6 Things that Moms Really Want for Mother’s Day

Mother’s Day is like New Year’s Eve.

There’s a big build-up.

There’s a lot of announcements of love and devotion on Facebook.

There’s the whole social media (pretend that your life is better than it is) thing happening.

And it is usually never what you think it’s going to be.

What I want to know is – are Moms really relaxing on this day?  Are they being pampered all day and taking naps?  Does this actually happen?

I am not complaining – Mr. Gaga and the kids do their best and make an effort to bring me joy and happiness on Mother’s Day.

But it’s just this nagging feeling that I have.  First of all, Mr. Gaga is not my child – so my kids have actually done nothing. And it would be nice to feel some sort of genuine appreciation from my children.

Will this day ever come?

I don’t need anything over the top. I am not asking for a massage or breakfast in bed, but how about they try just a teeny bit to pretend that they care that it’s Mother’s Day.  A day carefully invented by Hallmark celebrated by Americans across the land in appreciation of the women who grew them in their uterus and then proceeded to keep them alive from birth to present.

I am not unrealistic – but there are a few basic things you can do to let me know that you love me and appreciate me as your mother:

There are a bunch of stereotypical things that people associate with Mother’s Day and I am here to tell you that those things are not what we really want:


Unless you are giving me a back rub while your brother puts a gel manicure on my nails – then I am not sure what this means.  Nobody in this household is able to “pamper” me in any way that I am interested in or would find enjoyable -so how about you just CLEAN UP YOUR SHIT.  

This includes but is not limited to – Legos, books, iPods, headphones, school papers, lunch boxes, cups, water bottles, your breakfast plates, your dirty socks, loose change, baseball cards and empty juice boxes.

If my children would simply pick up after themselves then I would feel “pampered” like no other.


I have enough to deal with – the last thing I need is coffee and eggs spilling on my sheets.  And I have shit to do – so I don’t think I could enjoy sitting around in bed waiting for people to bring me food.  And why is this activity considered a luxury? I would feel like I was in the hospital, trapped sitting up under a blanket while people served me orange juice and fruit on a tray.

I will get up and go downstairs and you can bring me some carbs and I will be happy. CARBS are the way to my heart. They do not have to be given to me while I am lying under a blanket – as that will make me feel fat and bad about myself. I prefer to be active while consuming carbs.  I like to do things like walk down the stairs before I eat 1000 calories.  If you give me a bagel then I know that you really love me and understand my needs.



Also, when you give someone CARBS – it’s a secret message that says “You might be fat – but I love you anyways and you can eat some more bad stuff and I won’t judge you.”

That’s why when Mr. Gaga gave me a bagel last year on Mother’s Day and served me pasta for dinner I knew that he really loved me.


I know I might be in the minority here but this is not what I want from my children. I am just not that type of mother….


Did you notice that I gave you chicken nuggets and water the other night for dinner? That’s me struggling to keep you alive – the last thing I need is another living thing to worry about.

If you give me a plant then that means I have to water it or plant it in the dirt or something and then pretend to be excited when it grows.  I have enough to do.

I will take something hard and cold and plastic that requires no care.

A GIFT CARD falls into that category.



Ummm, isn’t that what we do every day? I love my kids but “quality time” isn’t exactly relaxing.  How about if we all are in the same room but nobody asks me for anything? Can quality time be very quiet? Can people not tell me they are hungry or ask me where their baseball pants or underwear is?

“Can I have a gogurt?”

“Where are my socks?”

“Sam punched me!”

“Where’s my backpack?”

“Can I watch TV?”

“Can my friend come over?”

“Where’s the iPad?”

“What’s for dinner?”

“Can I have a glass of water?”



The constant yelling from my children and loud televisions and loud drum playing and loud video games gets to be a bit much….

The worst is that it is now baseball season.

Mr. Gaga grew up in a home where individuals yelled at the television set during sporting events, so he believes that this is normal behavior.

He does this regularly and I want to murder him.  Imagine minding your own business, reading your magazine or writing your blog, and suddenly someone is screaming at the top of their lungs in your ears – something about the METS!!

Now imagine him teaching your two sons to behave in this manner.

So imagine three (annoying as fuck) people screaming at the top of their lungs.  Imagine them saying “Get out!!” as loud as humanly possible – every time one of these assholes hits a baseball.  Imagine this goes on for sometimes up to three hours.

I don’t know if the METS are playing on Mother’s Day or not – but I am going to tell everyone to shut the fuck up in honor of Mother’s Day – just in case.


What the fuck is this shit? Do people actually get away with this? Last year I had to run around buying food for the week and making sure the kids’ baseball uniforms were laundered for their morning games.

I had to load the dishwasher.

I had to fold the laundry and put it away.

I mean what am I a masochist?

If I let these people take over, things could go from bad to worse!! If I let them “fold the laundry” I would find myself spending Monday refolding clothes and running to the store for snacks and lunch supplies. How is this helpful?

Stop this boycott of mom duties and ask for something realistic like Stop Fighting!

I am told that fighting is “normal” between brothers.  However, it is fucking annoying and hazardous.  I am on constant alert that one of my children might get accidentally killed during their spats.


While I was trying to “relax” last Mother’s Day while the kids played outside, Michael came stomping in.  “Dad said I had to go upstairs and be punished!” he cried. “Because I accidentally hurt Sam and then he hurt me and then I pushed him LIGHTLY!!! in the head!!” he pleaded his case.

“You are upsetting me – go upstair,” I said dismissively.

I went outside and found Sam and Mr. Gaga. “What’s going on? Michael is upstairs crying and this is ruining my Mother’s Day,” I demanded. (like anyone cares.)

“Well he kicked me in the balls and then punched me in the face,” Sam said matter-of-factly.

“It’s true,” Mr. Gaga confirmed.

This is everyday of my life.  They come dangerously close to murdering each other or at the very least – prohibiting their ability to have mobile sperm in the future….and then 5 minutes later they are the best of friends.

It’s infuriating, exhausting and nerve-wracking.

Wouldn’t it be great to take off one day of this bullshit for your mother??


Do you? Do you really love me? Because by the smelly socks all over your floor and your constant arguing and talking back – I am not too sure….

Let’s lose this stock generic sentiment of “I love you.”

I need some cold hard facts.

How about let’s keep this real…

How about you tell me that you love me by saying something I really want to hear.

Tell me that I am the best mom in the whole world.

Tell me that I cook the best food in the world.

Tell me that I am skinny (even if it’s not true – just say it!!!!)

Tell me that I am smart and funny.


Tell me that I am a MILF  –   ok that’s going too far….

Just ….

tell me I am prettier and better than all of the other moms.

That’s not too much to ask…

There’s a million other things that I could ask for – but this is a good start!!!

Hope all of your dreams come true next weekend!! XOXO, LADY GOO GOO GAGA

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