On Mother’s Day

I sat at the computer yesterday afternoon, working on one blog entry and getting set up for another.  I’d been happily engaged in knitterly activities all afternoon. From the kitchen, I could hear the sounds of my husband and older son in the thick of dinner perparations.  We were having my parents over for a Mother’s Day dinner.

I never quite know how to feel on Mother’s Day.  I suppose the best way to characterize it is ambivalence.  How much should I expect? How much is it OK to demand?  Is dinner sufficient, or should we have a fancy brunch, too?  What does my own mother need, want, or deserve?  Am I being too selfish?  At what point is it all right to feel disappointment? At what point do one’s own expectations (or those of society) overtake what is reasonable for a springtime Sunday?  That’s a lot of emotions for a Sunday afternoon.

Some Moms get taken out for brunch or dinner.  Some go to others’ homes for the festivities.  Some families make a fuss over their Moms, and they don’t lift a finger all day.  Me? I don’t want or need a fuss.  I don’t want to go to an overcrowded restaurant.  And while it would be nice to not do any work around the house all day, I’d probably have to deal with a disgruntled spouse or housework that simply got pushed off to a later, less convenient time.  No, I’d rather have the option to order takeout on any given weekday, a day when work ran long and my patience ran thin.  Save the cards, flowers and trinkets and give me everyday support.  That’s what I’ve got from my menfolk, by and large.

On a typical Sunday, my husband and I split the tasks so that I plan out the week’s menu and he goes to the grocery store.  While he’s there, I take care of the laundry processing.  I handle the household filing and scheduling and help the boys with homework.  If all goes well, I have an hour or two in the afternoon to knit or sew before evening obligations ensue.

On Mother’s Day, I had more time than that, because the guys made dinner for Mom and me.  So, instead of having to knock off in the late afternoon to prep for that, I was able to get out a blog post and begin another, after having taken care of the fussy parts of two knitting projects.  That’s what I consider a terrific Mother’s Day, and I hope that next year, I don’t have to think too terribly hard about how Mother’s Day makes me feel.

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