Is it Mother's Day, Mothers' Day, or Mothers Day? I'm never sure. Anyway, let's talk about this holiday. Or I'll blather, and you can listen if you want.
Mother's Day. The day in May when we all say . . . . Well, I think that people say lots of different things, but I guess that is it variations on the theme of "thanks for being a mom."
You're welcome.
But let me just say . . . I kind of hate this holiday. It's a confusing holiday to me. Why separate out this one day for mommies? (Same for Father's/Fathers/Fathers' Day, by the way. Ditto, for the grandparents, whenever that day is.) I mean, the sentiment is nice, I guess, but the day just makes me feel awkward because I'm not sure about how exactly to celebrate this holiday. Card? Flowers? Gift? Dinner? It's not as clear cut as, say, Christmas or a birthday.
Mother's/Mothers/Mothers' Day seems to be all over the map according to, what? Your regard for your mom? Your net worth? Your level of sentimentality? How many florist ads you've seen in the past week? Whether Hallmark commercials make you cry?
Apparently, Julia Ward Howe created the first American Mother's Day in 1870, calling for all mothers to join in a support of disarmament. And that makes some since: in 1870, there were a lot of American Mothers with a lot of dead sons after the Civil War. It's a far cry from lunch at the Highland Park Cafeteria and a bouquet of flowers, though.
I guess the thing that bothers me the most about Mother's/Mothers/Mothers' Day are the mothers who expect a grand production on this amorphous holiday. I was talking about this yesterday with a friend of mine, and he was sort of agreeing with me about these holidays, but then said, "I guess, though, being a parent can sometimes be a pain in the ass, so I guess that's why we deserve these days." (He's a dad.) And my reply was this: Yeah, but nobody forced me to get pregnant. In fact, I tried very hard to achieve that goal. So I feel like I brought all the inconvenience of parenthood on myself. It's the gig you sign up for when you become a parent: A little frustration, a little aggravation, a little poop on your sleeve, and lots of hugs and cuddles and giggles. Those are worth it to me, even without my special "day."
Still, now, I am a mother and this day, which is tomorrow, is "my" day too, now. And I know that The Working Dad has special plans and presents, and I love that he's into my momness. (Heck, I've already got Father's/Fathers/Fathers' Day presents for him hidden around the house.) I guess, in the end, it's nice to be made to feel special for one day. Just don't get too wrapped up in it. Love every day you are a mother. I guess what I'm saying is that every day is Mother's/Mothers/Mothers' Day for me, and my gift is the crinkly smile of that 14 month old I hear in the other room just now, waking up from his nap. So I guess this is the end of this post. Time to get some yogurt in my hair.
Happy day tomorrow, fellow Mommies!
