Ode To A Holiday

It's Mother's Day. Another one of those holiday's that prompt me to feel obligated to do something for someone. Yeah, I know, it's for my mom, but why do I need a designated day to make her feel special? Wouldn't it seem more genuine if I were to present her with an unexpected gift to say "Thank You, I love you", on some random day? And yes, I had a wonderful time with my son in his kindergarten class on Friday. We ate sugary snacks, colored pictures together, and the children sang songs for all of us mom's...well, all of us except for one student who's mom was noticeably absent from the festivities. I felt so bad for him. Sure the teacher went out of her way to give him some extra attention, but hey, it ain't his mom. His grandmother showed up about half way through the shindig; again, not the same thing.

When you're a married woman, Mother's Day doesn't stop with just your own mother. I have to make sure that my mother in law is taken care of, because many grown, married men expect their wives to attend to such things (as do the mother's in law). Then there are step mother's, grandmother's, throw in a couple of aunt's, and maybe a sister or two and before you know it, it's like Christmas around here. You're looking at your credit card bill with horror at the end of the month, wondering what ever happened to just sending a card to someone.

Then there is the guilt if you don't call your mom soon enough. I've encountered this problem twice in adulthood. Once with my mother in law, and once with my own mother. This guilt consumes you when they...call you first. Some of you know what I'm talking about. You feel about this big, and the first thing out of your mouth is, "I was just going to call you!", which sounds just as false as it probably is.

I'll be having my own mother over for dinner tonight. It's easier that way and scads more enjoyable than trying to get a table at some overpriced brunch in some wannabe hoity toity restaurant somewhere, trying to have a good time when all you can think about is getting the hell away from all of those people; or waiting endlessly for our turn in the pedicure chair because every other mother and daughter team decided that today would be the perfect day to give their feet some special attention. "Would you like a flower painted on your toenail?"..."No thanks, just get me out of here pronto!". Just what is it about strangers handling your feet that makes for a bonding experience anyway?

I don't want a designated day for my children to have to worship and show their appreciation for me. They should do that everyday, dammit! All three of them were ripped from my loins; two of them without an epidural...they better kiss the ground I walk on! Why is there all of this pressure to make sure that we all take the time to appreciate the one's we love? You either do or you don't and creating a holiday doesn't mean that the one's doing the appreciation bestowing actually appreciate the person being bestowed upon. Some of them do, some of them don't, and the one's that don't are doing it because they feel they have too. And the one's that genuinely do already take the time to make those gestures throughout the year. So the only thing this holiday does for the genuine appreciators is add extra pressure on them to do even more appreciating. See? Who needs it?

My feelings are similar with regards to Valentine's Day. If I'm still blogging at that time, I'll be back to rant about that then.