When my boys were really little and I was single mom, my good friends took them to the store and helped them pick out cards and flowers.
It was such a sweet gesture and I remember it to this day.
I remember it not because I wanted the recognition, but because I wanted my boys to understand that this is what we do.
For me, the value was not in my own response, but in the experience it provided my boys.
Is it that I couldn’t accept the compliment?
I don’t think so.
It’s that one day out of the year we culturally do something that should happen all the time – recognizing the tremendous value mothers add, day in and day out.
Why Mother’s Day Is Weird For Me.
If you adore this holiday, please understand my heart. I do think it’s wonderful. I think you should be pampered and celebrated. We all should be.
But I struggle with the difference between how we treat moms culturally on this one day, and how we treat moms all the other days.
The way she’s treated when she tries to advocate for her child at school.
The way she’s dismissed by the doctor or even pastor when she knows something’s wrong.
The way she has to defend her parenting, even to other moms.
Even the way she has to prove her ability as a mom in her own home, to her own husband.
Perhaps it’s because I write publicly now, that I now see the disparity so clearly.
There is a vast difference between what we say about moms on Mother’s Day and how we treat them every other day.
It’s this difference that makes the celebration so weird for me. I can’t reconcile it.
If we really want to celebrate moms, I think we should start by listening to them, believing them, and trusting them.
Today, I do want to wish you a very Happy Mother’s Day.
Most importantly, I want you to know that my wishes come, not because it is the second Sunday in May, but because I recognize the hard work, dedication and sheer perseverance you demonstrate all year long.
You show up.
You cry and you pray, and then you cry and pray some more.
You encourage and support. You worry and stress. You drink too much coffee.
Sometimes, you drink too much wine.
You lose it sometimes, and then feel bad.
You nail it sometimes, and feel hopeful.
You are doing this mothering thing every single day, no exceptions, for even when your children aren’t with you, they are never far from your mind and always tied to your heart. There is never a day that is not actually mother’s day.
You matter. The world is a better place because of you and your work.
You are, after all, someone’s mom.
Happy Mother’s Day.