Tag Archives: rivers

According to Art, Motherhood Stinks

I have been combing over possible blog topics in my mind, and none really spark with me. I have considered discussing how I make friends as an adult (or, don’t, in truth), postpartum depression (I thought that would be a comedy fest), or, even, an ode to the never-ending story of laundry.

Clearly, my well is running dry.

I did discover the Wikimedia Commons, which has a treasure trove of images that I can use without fear of the copyright police chasing me. It does haunt my dreams and leads me to draw things on my own.

I started by searching for ‘illustrations of mothers.’ Not what I expected. I found:

Wake up woman, and torture your son-in-law!Jesus healing a mother-in-law: Clearly he never had one. Sometimes it’s just best to let them go. Not that it’s a commentary on my own mother-in-law or how my husband feels about my mom. (I do believe my butt is completely covered now)

A man gathering parts of his mother’s body and sewing them together:
So….. someone dismembers your mother and tosses them into the river. And, you gather that stuff up and sew it together? What is this? Frankenstein? That didn’t end well, and neither will this sick story. I think I am going to put it in my will that if I am dismembered and scattered in a river, I should be left there. I’ll be just like the Little Mermaid.

A woman fishing her dead son out of a river: Seriously? What’s with the death and rivers, artists? Can’t we use a river for frolicking? Or peeing in? Like normal people?

Way too many kids, not enough wine.

Way too many kids, not enough wine.

A mother with her 8 children, who all look to be 8 and under: So, it’s not the eight kids I have an issue with; it’s the fact that the mother looks so young and well rested, despite the fact that she’s surrounded by infants and toddlers. And that one kid holding a finger to his lips Dr. Evil-style is totally plotting something. I would have lost my crackers if I had 8 kids under 8, one of whom was most likely going to become an evil genius and create sharks with laser beams on their heads.

Mother and daughter in corsets: Now, there’s a way to bond with your daughter; strap her into a garment that will cut off her circulation and squash her intestines. Mother of the year. Hmm… I may need to save this one and pull it out when my daughter refuses to wear jeans. I can hoist it high and declare, “Well, I could put you in a corset instead.” I’m sure it will work. Either that, or its my corset that’s too tight, causing me to be delusional.

Moral of the story here, folks… as a mother, you will be expected to torture your body to look beautiful, and then be drained of energy by the delivery and rearing of many, many children. At the end of your years, you will become a reviled mother-in-law, more than likely meeting your end in a dirty river, unless you happen to come across Jesus, who will bring you back to life with your son-in-law screaming, “Wait! She was fine the way she was!”

And that concludes today’s lesson on what it means to be a mother, as depicted in art. Now go and enjoy your edification. And avoid all rivers!

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