Mother’s Day: A Day of Irony

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Oh great, it’s that time of year again. The sun is shining, flowers are blooming, and spring sports gear is making its way out of storage — and there it is on my calendar. Written in cute, small, italic font at the bottom of a Sunday morning: Mother’s Day. How special. My big day! A day to celebrate my motherhood and feel appreciated. Except, I won’t. Because I can’t. Because let’s face it, Mother’s Day is a bit of a joke. And that’s the unvarnished truth.

As the mom, I’m the chief organizer, the planner of all family events, holidays, and gatherings. So, who is actually in charge of this day? Who is responsible for the planning of my own celebration? More importantly, who’s making sure that all the other mothers in our lives are celebrated on this so-called special day? That’s the catch with Mother’s Day — there are just too many mothers! I’m a mother. I have a mother, who has a mother. My partner has a mother, and his sisters are mothers too. It’s a never-ending list! So instead of counting down the days until my moment of glory, I’m out shopping for cards and flowers for all the other moms in my life.

Here’s the kicker: moms never get to hit pause on the to-do list. The responsibility to ensure everyone else feels loved and appreciated doesn’t go away, even on our own big day.

What if we made a pact? A mutual agreement that Mother’s Day should be exclusively for mothers with young children — those who are really in the thick of it. Once the kids are grown, it might be time to hand off the Mother’s Day baton to those currently dealing with sleepless nights and sticky fingers. Or maybe we should advocate for a separate Grandmother’s Day. Not to be confused with Groundhog Day, but it has a nice ring to it! We could even combine it with Father’s Day. That feels fair.

Let’s be real, relaxing on Mother’s Day is nearly impossible. Even if I wanted to spend a day that’s supposedly “mine” getting pampered or indulging in solitude with a good book, I’d inevitably feel guilty for not spending time with the little ones who gave me this title. Who leaves their kids behind right after receiving homemade cards and backyard flowers? On a holiday that’s supposed to be all about us!

Meanwhile, Hallmark benefits from this charade. Mothers across the globe will flood their social media with picture-perfect moments, each adorned with hashtags like #family and #blessings. Look, there’s a snapshot of their kid’s handprint flower art because what kind of mother doesn’t publicly acknowledge her #blessings on her special day?

Here’s a thought: instead of cramming a ton of gratitude and appreciation into one artificially created day, let’s celebrate our motherhood in smaller, genuine moments throughout the year. Like that family beach day when the kids are happily occupied and you find yourself soaking in the sun, or the moments when your child reaches for your hand on a walk. Those are the real Mother’s Day moments. Genuine, unexpected little joys that make you feel valued. Stress-free, expectation-free, guilt-free goodness. That’s what Mother’s Day should really be about.

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Summary:

Mother’s Day often feels ironic for those who take on the role of planner and organizer. Instead of celebrating themselves, many mothers find themselves focusing on everyone else’s needs. The article suggests a rethink of how we celebrate motherhood, advocating for genuine, spontaneous moments of appreciation throughout the year rather than cramming all gratitude into one designated day.