What do you REALLY think, Mother?

NOTE: For those of you looking for Mother’s Day Letters, just check under form letters or press the tag for “Mother’s Day”.

I’ve never quite grasped the true meaning of Mother’s Day.  Although it’s an interesting concept.

Is it like Labor Day…but a day off for Mothers?

Is it a training ground for young children, who, without a good example might never realize that Mom makes their world go around?  Okay,  that’s valid enough.

If it’s a day to remember our mothers I haven’t mastered the timing.  Thoughts of my mother come unbidden.  They pop up on any old day.  I can conjure up sentiment on the first Sunday in May, but I’m not sure that memories are any more clear or poignant.

And did the inventor of Mother’s Day ever consider the double-, sometimes triple-bind that causes even more stress than joy for the honoree?  How does one show suitable gratitude for one’s children at the same time one is honoring one’s mother?

That was a lovely breakfast in bed, children.  Even the curdled milk in the unwashed wine glass was great.  But excuse me, I have to get up and call my Mom.  And I’d better run by and give Grandma a kiss.

I have grandchildren who are feting their mothers (my daughters*), who I hope are not fretting about feting me as much as I am about feting my dad’s wife.

And when I went to buy a card for Dad’s wife, I saw the lineup of cards for daughters.  Am I dropping the ball here?  Who should call whom?  Who gets priority?

You can see what a stressful day this can become.

There’s another thing that confuses me.  If we are especially attentive on Mother’s Day, does it let us off the hook for the rest of the year?

Because personally, my dear children, I’m going to be a little bit miffed if you only remember me one day of the year.  I realize the peer pressure is strong to call me on Mother’s Day and I always love hearing from you.  But I’d still appreciate a chat on a rainy day in March when I am sure that gray skies will last forever.

Or call me on Saturday afternoon when your son gets a goal (or strikes out).  Or when you daughter makes her college choice.  Or when you can’t remember that recipe for the potato salad that I used to make in the winter.

Call me just to talk if you want to give me a REAL thrill.

I hope this doesn’t sound gritchy or spiteful.  I’m not feeling abused or neglected.

I’m only venting…about a holiday that sets up unreal expectations for every Mother whose child has been her heart and soul every moment of every day since the miracle of its precious birth.

Never mind….

xxoo

*Please note that this includes all of my daughters-in-law (even that lovely woman who can’t legally be my daughter-in-law due to antiquated laws).