Oh no, I just saw an ad for “cute gifts any Mom would love” and my stomach dropped. May 14 is coming up and I have Mother’s Day dread. For the last decade or so, the holiday is just not something I look forward to and I struggle with that fact.
I have friends who have lost their mothers or are estranged from them and they have to grind through this day. Some moms I know care for children with special needs, and that can make Mother’s Day hard for complex reasons. I have an immigrant daughter’s relationship with my mom so it’s complicated in its own way. But my kids and I are very close and they show me love every day. I don’t need them to do anything special for me for Mother’s Day. I realize it makes me sound ungrateful but I just don’t care about it. Don’t be selfish.
Mostly, I have Mother’s Day dread because all I can focus on is the added responsibilities and expectations of this made-up holiday. My mom and mother-in-law live in Houston, as well as an extended family that I married into. There have been years when we all celebrated together and it took a lot of planning and work on my part to squeeze it into an already full calendar. I’ve hosted Mother’s Day in my home for more years than I can count. I’ve prepped my house, worked around nap times, bought flowers and made bouquets for half a dozen mothers and grandmothers, planned meals, and agonized over how to help all the guests enjoy the celebration while juggling many small children underfoot. I never quite got to appreciate it for myself during that time. I have responsibilities.
In recent years, it’s gotten much easier because all the kids involved are now older so everyone is more flexible. The fathers have learned to organize themselves and in turn helped us organize ourselves for our Mother’s Day celebrations as well. A couple of times before the pandemic the whole brood came to my house and I drove all the mothers to a restaurant, leaving the men and children at home. But not everyone loved the restaurant choice. There are expectations.
As our mothers age, the pressure to keep celebrating together is strong. I realize that this is the kind of thing they like to do, to be with all of us and the grandchildren. Life is short, so I try. Be a good girl.
Recently, I’ve been thinking that there is something more hovering just underneath the Mother’s Day dread. I’m not sure what the plan is yet for this year’s holiday, but maybe I’m finally starting to confront the deeper issues of why certain things bring on the anxiety. I guess I should lean into that this year. I have work to do.
