Mother's Day got it's official recognition thanks to a woman who wasn't a mother. For more an interesting one minute read, go here.
Growing up, mother's day meant breakfast in bed for mom (some years), a school-made gift and later flowers, and a visit to each grandparent's house to bestow upon our beloved grandmothers, the annual hanging basket of fuchias (paid for, until later in my youth, by mom and dad).
I am a mother now, and have seen the television commercials for diamond necklaces "from" three year olds. On my in-law's kitchen counter yesterday, there was a hanging basket of flowers that was bigger than some front yards. Next to a $5 greeting card that plays some pop tune.
I don't get this. It's the commercialism of motherhood, and it seems the marketing department is doing a good job convincing some of my peers that we are "owed."
(Thanks to Beth for a little feedback that helped me understand my own thoughts a little better. Many moms deserve to be spoiled. I suppose it's the feeling of entitlement that irks me.)
The original gift for mothers day? A single white carnation that signified pure love.
Yesterday morning Jim and Willa brought me breakfast in bed. With a card that he and Willa had made. Willa scaled the bed and sat across from me. First she played with the lilacs Jim had placed in water on the tray. Then she poked my toast. The pieces with the strawberry jelly. Next, she ate that piece, and got crumbs all over the bed. My side of the bed.
And that is what motherhood is all about, isn't it?
Later, after sweet Jim picked up the tray and went to clean the kitchen, Willa laid next to me, wrapped her arms around my head, and kissed my nose.
Better than any carnation. Though later in the week, we'll be going out to the garden center to pick up some flowers for our DIY hanging basket. Yesterday's gloomy rain wasn't inspiring for us to make the annual trip yesterday.
Later this week, I'll be seeing my mom (who might be finding this out for the first time here), and I'll hope to bestow some flower or other small gift that signifies how appreciative I am of the shared toast with jelly and crumb oversight in the past. And all of the support, kindnesses, and love in the present and future.
I might even kiss her nose. I hope and know she's not expecting a diamond necklace.