Yesterday was Mother’s Day here in the United States. It marked my 15th Mother’s Day and I have to say, that is a weird thing to type. Well, the 15th part is weird. Fifteen times I’ve “celebrated” Mother’s Day as a mother? No way. And, yet, it is true.
I have a few crystalline Mother’s Day memories. The first was when Mister Soandso was my handsome boyfriend and showed me a book he was mailing home to his mom for Mother’s Day. It was Robert Munsch’s I’ll Love You Forever. If you are wondering how many pages I got through before I was crying, I think the number was something close to none. If you don’t know the story behind the book, please read here.
The beauty of that book, besides all the freaking beautiful parts of it, is that every person who has ever read the book makes up their own song to sing while reading it and that’s exactly how Mr. Munsch thinks it should be. That’s a universal story, right there folks. Continue reading
The rain has finally found our parched little corner of the world again. I’m typing here in my kitchen with the patter of raindrops against my windows, reminding me of other rainy days I’ve had. But then, I’m probably a bit more likely to be reminded of things today. After all, it’s my Middlest’s 9th birthday today.
Nine. Such a nice round number, three threes all connected together into nine-ness, perhaps even all dressed to the nines. Nine.
Nine years ago my “gut feeling” I was carrying a girl became my fact and not just my hunch. Nine years ago I was lucky enough to experience a labor and delivery with all the possible magic and none of the previous frustration. Nine years ago I was blessed to become a mother to a daughter. She was so alike my son, Oldest. And yet so different.
I went for a run between rain showers on Saturday and as is normal for me, my “monkey mind” calmed and my thoughts soon matched my breathing. Usually I think about my novel and bits and pieces of plot that need reworking. But on Saturday I thought about Mother’s Day and where I was last year as a mother. (You can read about it here if you like.) And somewhere along the path it occurred to me that running is quite a bit like mothering, or at least the act of becoming a mother.
Now that all of the United States is recovering from the fun and excitement of Mother’s Day, I’d like to just say that my Mother’s Day was one hell of a mutha. As in, gee thanks, let’s not do that again for a long time. And then, this morning, I got chapter two. Yay me. But I really do try to live in a better moment, so I’m cranking up Black Eyed Peas’ “I Gotta Feeling” and refusing to be spinning wildly out of control for another moment. Or at least until the youngest comes upstairs. Because my kiddos can send me spinning from happy to crazy in no time at all.
A few things come to mind when I ponder the concept, “Mother’s Day.” Namely, “day”, why not “week” or “month.” Seriously, was “Mother’s Week” even in the running? Teachers and secretaries get a whole week for Pete’s sake, why not the Mothers? Actually, how about making Mother’s Day a truly compensatory celebration – say an hour of holiday appreciation for each hour of labor per child? Let’s see. 47 for my first, 3 hours 20 minutes for my second, and let’s say 9 and a half for my third child. That makes my proposed Mother’s Day holiday about 60 hours long. Now, that is an idea that could really take off – especially if a representative from Hallmark hears about it.
So this isn’t really a Mother’s Day post – more like a post-Mother’s Day post. A few things spring to mind. First off, if you pay attention to such things as punctuation, Mother’s Day can be a bit of an irritant. Why? Because about half the time you see it written, it is “Mothers Day.” Not really the same as a possessive “Mother’s Day.” I know, this is pure semantics, but it also the kind of thing that gets my goat. Right up there with my neighborhood cafe with a roadside sign proclaiming, “World Famous Pie’s!” Hmmm, that one really makes me cringe.
So next Sunday will be my 9th Mother’s Day celebration. Except Mother’s Day is really not much of a holiday in my book. Like, didn’t people appreciate their mothers before Hallmark told them to? And if you spend even 3 minutes, you can find out just what germinated the inkling that Mother’s Day was a good idea. Of course, then came the onslaught beginning with Father’s Day and heading through every relationship a person can have.
It isn’t that I don’t appreciate the sentiment. Because I do. It’s just that for me, May 5th is just way more meaningful. Because May 5, 2000 was the day I became a mom.