Glitter, glue and a homemade Mother's Day
Mother's Day is just another Hallmark occasion, right? Another chance for retailers to sell cards and chocolates and flowers, neatly bridging the gap between Valentine's Day and Easter.
Of course it is, says Andrea Mara. But is anyone really going to argue with it – is anyone going to begrudge mothers their day? And more importantly, is anyone going to begrudge kids the chance to make sparkly cards and bring some semblance of breakfast in bed to an always gracious mother? Nope, me neither. I'm all for it. Commercialised, yes – but with plenty of upsides:
Breakfast in bed
If your house is like my house, breakfast in bed is probably made up of a cup of tea that went cold while discussions raged downstairs about who is carrying what; toast that went cold during the same discussions; and if we're being really posh, a glass of orange juice. Then each year as I start to tuck in to my toast, there's usually a "can I have some of that?" request, multiplied by three. And that's the end of the toast. Except for the crumbs in the bed.
This one isn't quite clear – some mothers get presents, some don't. My children buy me a gift some years, and other years they don't. I guess when you're six, four and two-years-old, you have a lot going on, what with playing and cartoons and Sellotaping everything to everything (or is that just my kids?) and you don't always think about buying gifts on time. Plus you have no money. Anyway, breakfast in bed is worth far more than any present – especially if preceded by a lie-in! Lie-ins trump everything (this entire section may or may not be directed towards my husband...)
Breakfast in bed is worth far more than any present – especially if preceded by a lie-in! Lie-ins trump everything
Everyone loves Mother's Day cards, especially the ones that are covered in Sellotape and glue and glitter and obscure drawings of Easter eggs and witches and robots. Well everyone except Hallmark I suppose.
Going out for lunch
Andrea and her family
My first year as a mother, going out for lunch was something we forgot to organise in advance, and on the day everywhere was booked out. So we went to Starbucks for coffee. And I minded the then-six-month-old while my husband read the paper. I foolishly simmered in silence instead of speaking up, but Mother's Day was new to me, and the nuances of who does what were not yet clear. Now, four weeks or so before the day itself, I say "Oh, we should go out for lunch on Mother's Day" and it gets booked. And not in Starbucks.
Doing no housework
Is this really a thing – does anyone actually get out of doing housework? My kids told me this week that I don't have to do any housework on Mother's Day, but they haven't suggested that they do any of it in my place. Then again maybe it doesn't matter. May it's a day to just let everything slide. Except the toast crumbs in the bed – that's a step too far. But really, it's about the kids. All of these annual occasions and feast days at which we slightly raise a disdainful eyebrow before we become parents, take on a whole new meaning when we have kids. Certainly Mother's Day is commercialised, as are St. Patrick's Day and Easter and Father's Day. But the kids love celebrating, they love all of it. It makes them happy during the weeks and weeks of preparation, then ecstatic on the day itself. Occasions seem to give their year structure and focus (and they're great for bribes).
So I'm buying into it. In a home-made Sellotape and glue kind of way.