I Hate Mothers Day

I love my mom. But I hate Mothers Day. I’m also not a big fan of Fathers Day, either. I hate that there is a day set aside to make a big fuss over people just because they had children. I always send cards and call my parents, being too far away for a visit and dinner out. But I don’t need a special day to remember them; I do it all the time.

Mothers Day, in particular, seems insanely artificial, designed by Hallmark, florists, and jewelers to make us feel guilty and go out and buy stuff to give away. As a kid, I made cards and took breakfast in bed up on a wobbly tray – usually involving overdone eggs and cold dry toast, but occasionally pancakes if I was feeling brave.

As I got older, I’d see all the mothers in church wearing corsages and being feted by the world at large simply because they had given birth. It bothered me on two levels. One, being left out because I wasn’t a mother and people without children don’t count. And two, because quite a few of the mothers I knew weren’t good mothers. Very subjective, I know, but I knew of physically or emotionally abusive moms and it made me mad that they got the same social stamp of approval as a mom who had good parenting skills.

Adoptive mothers are celebrated but those women who give children up for adoption come to Mothers Day with mixed emotions. Mothers whose children have died have all sorts of things stirred up, and that’s also true for adults who are mourning mothers who are gone. My best friend’s mom died this last year and she was dreading all the hype surrounding today even though she is a mother herself and was getting flowers and stuff from her own kids.

Fortunately today is almost over and the ads will stop. They made a nice change from political ads and the Fathers Day ads for home improvement store gadgets and toys haven’t started yet. Let’s give them a day or two to gear that up.