Mother’s Day, Shmother’s Day

This year is a first for me.  It is the first Mother's Day where I am a mother thanks to my son Aiven, 7 months old and the light of my life.

My views on Mother's Day have always clashed with my mother’s.  I should mention that my mother and I disagree on almost everything, so this is not unusual.  She thinks that since I am now a mother myself I will see it her way.  Unfortunately -- or fortunately, depending on your point of view -- that simply isn't the case.

All throughout my childhood I felt like Mother's Day was forced down my throat like liver and onions.  It was as if my mother's entire existence depended upon how much praise and pageantry I could heap on her.  This contributed to my belief that Mother's Day (and Father's Day and Valentine's Day) are ridiculous made-up holidays.  They are a conspiracy perpetuated by card companies, florists, and chocolatiers, and I refuse to buy into it.  If someone declares it Jump Off a Bridge Day, are we supposed to buy jump off a bridge cards?  What really irks me is that a designated day should not be necessary to do something nice, give a thoughtful gift or just say "I Love You" to someone.  Isn't it more meaningful when we express our love unprovoked and unprompted?  Isn't showing appreciation more special on a random day?  Aren't the best sentiments those that are shared raw and unfiltered, straight from the heart?
 
My mother knows how I feel about Mother's Day.  Nevertheless, she sent me a card, and it seemed like an insult.  Once again, she disregarded my feelings and disrespected my beliefs.  I feel like she is trying to guilt me into buying her a card.

What is Mother's Day supposed to celebrate anyway?  I celebrate being a mother every day.  It is the greatest gift.  I could have very easily never met my husband or gotten pregnant or had a healthy child.  I thank G-d every day for the miracle that is my son.  I am honored and humbled and grateful to be a mother.  I get recognized for being a mommy every time Aiven smiles or raises his little arms out to me.  I am a mother each and every day, and I want to celebrate it like the daily blessing that it is. 

When Aiven is older and comes home from school with a Mother's Day card, I will treat it like a masterpiece.  Of course, every piece of art he brings home will make his mother's heart soar.  But I will also explain to him that he can express his love whenever he wants and that there is no need to wait for the permission of a holiday.  And even more importantly, I will let him know that I can tell how much he loves me because his everyday actions speak louder than words on a card.

So, I do not expect a Mother's Day card from my son, would never demand one, and certainly do not want one from my own mother.  That's just weird.

I did not send my mom a card this year.  But maybe she was sort of right about one thing.  I may not see it her way now that I am a mother, but my view has changed.  After the initial anger of receiving her card dissipated, I wondered, "Is she just as offended when I don't send her a card?  Does it feel like an insult, a rejection of her feelings and beliefs?"

If I knew that my mother would refrain from sending me a card on Mother’s Day, I would probably start sending her a card.  But she won’t stop sending cards, so I won't start.  She is a great bubbe, though.  And for that, I think Aiven will send her flowers.