Mother's Day is just around the corner; I know this not because I have it starred and circled in bright red Sharpie on my calendar but because I watch TV (Lost!) and spend just a *wee* bit of time online.
The amount of commercials and online ads for Mother's Day (flowers and pjs and candy, oh my!) are overwhelming.
And that Hallmark commercial? The one where the older mom says goodbye to her adult daughter then pulls down the beautifully crafted wooden box filled with every.single.card her daughter ever gave her - have you seen that one?
I have, and let me tell you (and Hallmark, too, should they/any of their representives be clicking through my little blogjoint), that commercial is sweet and touching, yes. But it is also anxiety-inducing because HELLO?! I'm supposed to and keep EVERYTHING each of my kids give me (and sort each card/craft/random scribble by holiday/occasion) for the next 20 years? In a hand crafted box?
Not happening, at least not without me taking a spin on the OCD dance floor. Sorry, Hallmark, my life takes place in the real world, not a commercial.
But the companies that make gifting items and spend oodles of their advertising dollars promoting them don't really consider what the real world of a mom looks like; nothing would sell if they did.
Consider my take on these top gift items:
-> Flowers. I like them, yes, but would rather (especially this time of year) plant them in my yard. I dig digging in the dirt.
-> Chocolate. I adore this. I was noshing on my hidden stash of M&Ms before I started writing this post. While I do love chocolate and would happily eat any that's given to me this Sunday, I already HAVE this. Lots of it. And no, I won't tell you WHERE.
-> PJs. I already have a drawer filled with ones I barely wear. I'll let you come to whatever conclusion you want about that statement.
-> Knick knacks, et al. I collect happy kids, crazy dogs, and domain names (don't ask me how many I own now because I'm not quite sure); that's about it. I'm not much of a stuff person.
-> Books. Two words - library card.
So the commercials for mother's day gifts don't really ring my bell. And while I know that I am a difficult person to buy gifts for (Knute has told me this, with love, and he is right), I can't be the only mom out there who watches the commercials and sees the ads and finds herself fighting the urge to roll her eyes and sigh in frustration.
Because I'm not in this for the gifts.
What I really want for Mother's Day is something I cannot have; at least, not yet.
What I really want for Mother's Day is understanding.
The sacrifices. The hard days. The crippling fears. The bombardment of judgements from society for every choice I make concerning my children.
That gift is one I cannot have now; my hope is that one day, when I am older and my children are grown with children of their own, that they will come to me and say this:
Thank you, Mom. For everything.
And to my own Mom and Dad who are somewhere reading this -