Yesterday my husband asked, “Do you want to do the same thing this year as we’ve been doing where none of us asks you what you want to do tomorrow?”
Truly, if Mother’s Day has any real utility it’s that it’s taught my family a lot about what I don’t like. Over the years they’ve learned: I do not want to go on a hike. I do not want to go on a family bike ride. And I do not want breakfast in bed.
I’ve lost a lot of lifetime hours waiting in bed for that tray.
Now they know what to do. I mean they’re not always sure of the exact day to do it — last Sunday I tricked my older son into thinking it was Mother’s Day that day and his face momentarily blanched in true terror.
But now everyone knows today’s the day. And I’ll get celebrated and spoiled and flowered. I mean really — is there anything more special than watching your family run scared in hopes of pleasing you and really showing you that you’re loved?
So, yes: I will have a lovely Mother’s Day.
It’s just that I’ve come to understand Mother’s Day a lot like I came to understand Christmas after I learned there was no Santa. It can be a great day for many. Surely there is magic — I don’t want it canceled.
But the source of the magic is different than I thought when I was younger. And the day amplifies things that not everybody has. So there are gifts and brunches, and also tears and aches. It’s a mixed bouquet of beauty and bounty, thorns and allergens.
The day also often amplifies selflessness, an idea that I have grown increasingly allergic to over this career of mine.
Because if you take the self out of self aren’t you left with…nothing?
I’d rather my kids think that I’m … I don’t know: good at spitting for distance or a little too sarcastic or that I sometimes prioritize running or writing or time with friends than think I’m selfless.
I think my kids can know I’d do just about anything for them (except help with science fair projects) and still see that I can be self-full. And I want my kids to know I want the same for them down the road when they’re parents. I’d never want less of their selves — I love their selves! I want them always to remain full of themselves.
In feeling my self-fullness, I considered doing a post to myself on instagram. Hey, it’s a day of job recognition — is there any harm in women touting some of their own accomplishments? People in other lines of work do this ALL THE TIME. And mothers are powerful people — we don’t need to wait for people to fling credit our way. We can take some too!
Though, listen: I’m the first to admit that the metrics of motherhood are confusing and ever-moving and probably non-existent. Who knows if you’re ever doing the right thing or a good job?
Still — every now and then you have a day. And you know:
I had one this week. My youngest did a presentation that he wrote and read to the class about me. His teacher sent me the video and I watched as he so surefootedly and proudly Powerpointed about everything I love. There’s a moment where he says “this is a picture of my Mommy” and he contorts his arms and winks this little smile like can you believe this is her? This very woman is my mommy.
It is a visual of love.
Minutes later, another of my kids texted me about something they were excited about. A few minutes after that, a different kid texted me about something they were nervous about. And, as if by choreography, a few minutes after that, yet a different kid texted me about a funny thing that had just happened.
And in that hour, I thought — this is it. I am doing a good job at a hard job. And I am getting everything I ever could’ve wished for out of this life with my kids.
That day was my Mother’s Day*. Because it really celebrated the heart of it.
Not the work of motherhood, or the final product of it. But the who we are to each other of it: getting the texts, hearing the things, sharing the life past the point of requirement.
Just because we want to.
And everyone being their full selves.
Happy Mother’s Day to all who celebrate.
And godspeed to the dads and the kids. It’s literally one day. You can do it.
Jen.
* though I am still accepting gifts today.
I love this so much! I think I’m going to write an IG post touting my accomplishments too. But who the hell knows if I’m doing a good job or not. It’s a process. I’m glad I get to be self full with you. You’re an amazing person and friend. Keep doing you.
Awe, Jen!! Your reflective writings and your keen sense of humor always move me. And I relate to so much of what you write so eloquently. My oldest told me the day before Mother's Day that he had golf plans in the morning. My heart sank...isn't this a national holiday everyone has in bold on their calendars?! He said he made plans at this special golf club weeks ago, not knowing it was Mother's Day. I guess it isn't on everyone's calendar! Ha! It turned out to be the most magical day as our whole family came together for a home-cooked meal (by my husband, of course). Opening each card and reading their powerful words reminded me why I have dedicated myself entirely to these beautiful souls. After observing my children in the kitchen cleaning the dishes and eavesdropping on their chit-chat, I declared it the best Mother's Day ever— My soul was whole.