Mother’s Day is always a weird holiday for me.
Before I had kids, it was just awkward. Do you take the chocolate bar they hand out during church because you do technically have a uterus? It’s just uncomfortable.
Then when I was trying to get pregnant but couldn’t, Mother’s Day was bitter for me. On my second infertile Mother’s Day, I skipped church altogether. I didn’t want to get the pity chocolate bar or listen to all the lessons on the immeasurable joy of childbearing. I also didn’t want any courtesy reassurances that “it will happen for you, too.” Yuck.
So when I had kids, I thought I would suddenly be in on the secret joy of Mother’s Day. I would grab my chocolate, wax eloquent on motherhood and bask in the glory of flowers, breakfast in bed and overdue praise.
Instead, I still feel strange on Mother’s Day. It feels odd to me to have a day where husbands and children are obligated to say thank you. It also seems strange to try to thank your mom for a year or a lifetime’s worth of mothering with a cheesy card and a single day of mom-centric festivities.
I’m not saying I want a parade, but it all just seems a little forced. I’ll be the first in line to celebrate mothers — they change the world on a daily basis in small, taken-for-granted tasks — but something about Mother’s Day has just never clicked for me. You better believe I’m taking that candy bar, though.
How do you feel about Mother’s Day – love it or hate it?
Erin Stewart is a regular blogger for Deseret News. From stretch marks to the latest news for moms, Stewart discusses it all while her 4-year-old daughter crams Mr. Potato Head pieces in her little sister’s nose.