I hate Mother's Day!  I don't know how else to say it, so I'll start from the beginning...the eve of Mother's Day.

It's Saturday night.  We're all snuggled in for a movie.  11:30ish rolls around.  Movie's over.  I'm tired.  Mark says he feels awake.  So I say, hmmm...  And while I'm pondering whether or not to stay up with him to watch Saturday Night Live (and contemplate the muffin sketch a bit), he says to me, "Could I just have some time alone.  Tomorrow is Mother's Day, and I..."

I left before he finished his sentence.  Crushed.  Hurt.  Astonished, but not, given neither one of us are particularly good with holidays codified by Hallmark.  He did arrange for flowers to be delivered to his mother two weeks ago.  I wrote Mark a sarcastic note on a thank you card.  "Thank you for preparing for Mother's Day in a manner that makes me feel especially unimportant."  I went to bed.

Needless to say, when Mark came to bed and found the note he felt embarrassed, a little guilty, and angry at my stifled stab at him.

To tell the truth, my husband tells me everyday that I am beautiful, that I am smart, that he is grateful that I am his best friend.  He truly makes me feel special every ordinary day.  We work out together, we work together, and we spend most of every 24 hours together, much of it engaged in parallel activities or tasks.

I feel so grateful to be married to Mark.  He's my best friend.  He's incredibly loving and nurturing.  He's fun and playful.  He's my creative colleague.  He completes me...

How is it that Hallmark and American Greetings and even Sandra Boynton (whose cards I have loved for 15 years!) can make us, two people in a truly loving marriage, both feel so justifiably pissed off at the other?

I hate these holidays...Mother's Day, Father's Day, Valentine's Day...

We should love each other in the manner the flower and greeting card industry want us to love each other unexpectedly, here and there in the month or week, when we feel moved to make an extra gesture to the one we love.

I hereby declare EVERYDAY the day we should tell the moms and dads in our lives that we love them and appreciate what they've given us over a lifetime;  EVERYDAY the day we should make love with our partners in life like the first time we got it right (first times are a little too awkward);  EVERYDAY the day we should hug our children and look into their eyes like we did they day they were born;  EVERYDAY we should thank our administrative assistants and support staffs for making us look good...

Everyday we should love our neighbors, as ourselves....

I find I have a hot and cold relationship with discipline.

During the past several years I’ve started several blogs.  I find it very difficult to blog consistently.  It seems like there is always something more important to do.  After a few weeks go by, I feel guilty and lazy about not blogging.  And the remorse takes its toll over time.  I begin to feel bad about myself.  Do I have discipline issues?

But then I take note of the fact that this June I’ll be married 20 years.  Marriage is a disciplined practice.

A year after my youngest daughter was born I went on a Weight Watchers regimen.  I wrote lists of every morsel of food that passed my lips.  I exercised.  Actually I became both obsessive and compulsive recording what I ate, counting points and taking extra runs so I could consume more points.  I lost 40 pounds of baby making fat in three months.  Diet is a disciplined practice.

Discipline is a choice we make.   Why is it sometimes so easy and other times so hard?

My new pal, Robin, has challenged me to transform my blogging from once in a long while to a disciplined practice.  Thanks for the cuppa and the English muffin, Girlfriend!