It was Mother’s Day last Sunday. How do I know?
Well, for starters, the ad on evening TV that suggested a new car would be the only gift you should consider (doesn’t Mom deserve the best?) dropped a fairly large hint. Then there were the ones that ran around the time ‘The Price is Right’ airs, earlier in the day, that recommended gifting mater everything from a walk-in bath and electric recliner, to a stairlift or spot at a top retirement village where she can laugh and play all day with new friends. The actress playing the part of the senior mother looked downright thrilled at the idea of leaving her beloved house to move to Del Boca Vista, hugging her grown children for giving her exactly what she wanted.
I guess these companies do the maths. If you’re at home watching shows mid-morning, then you’re probably retired and, ipso facto, your mother is at an age where home aids hold more appeal than a new Ferrari.
The other way I twigged that we were celebrating mums was when my best friend Lynne and I walked into several local shops, looking for gifts for friends, and the staff wished us both a “HAPPY MOTHER’s DAY!” This had to be based on one of two reasons: 1) We looked old enough to have had children, and surely there was no way we were both pickney-free; or 2) Lynne’s insistence on letting her hair go gray had them supposing that she was my mother … although how someone 5 feet tall with small features could have given birth to my strapping self clearly didn’t cross their minds.
I was going to say something to the tune of, actually, neither of us has children, but Lynne pushed me forward and said I should just accept the happy greeting. When we told our friend Leroy the story later on, he said (with a big smile on his face), “Well, you are mothers to lots of cats, chickens and ducks!”
So sunny and positive; but not something I’d be posting on Tinder.
I know lots of women who have children, and no matter how busy my life becomes, I am always in awe of how much they accomplish on a daily basis. If I haven’t had a good night’s sleep, or I’m not feeling well, I can stay in bed for a while. Not them. When the morning comes around, it’s time to rise and shine and start dealing with the daily routine of breakfast, getting the kids ready, and sending them off to school.
When I and my siblings were students, growing up in Cayman, and there was the rare closing of school due to torrential rain or similar, we were lucky my mum was a teacher, so she could gather us up, take us home and stay with us. I wonder how lucky she felt …
It’s nice to see how Mother’s Day focuses on gifts for mothers, rather than their children. I had a friend tell me a couple of years ago that as soon as she had a baby, almost all presents given to her after that were actually for her child – and not just on Mother’s Day. For her birthday and at Christmas, baby blankets, stuffed toys, rattles … I mean, sure, nice to have things to keep the child happy, but how about a bracelet and a bottle of Champagne for mommy? Or an extra couple of hours’ sleep on the morning of her special day?
I was going through some Mother’s Day ‘SNL’ skits on YouTube when writing this. I highly recommend you do the same. There are some truly hilarious ones in there to which I’m sure mothers could relate. ‘Mom jeans’ is always a favourite, and the Amy Schumer one paints quite the picture.
My mother had four of us in a six-year time span. I cannot even imagine. As we arrived in the Cayman Islands in 1975, I was the eldest at 5 years old, then there was my sister and brother, and Mum was two months away from giving birth to the youngest. My parents moved halfway across the world to a tiny island in the Caribbean with three young children in tow and another imminently on the way. When I think about it now, I boggle at the idea that they took such a chance … which ended up benefitting all of us. What a childhood we had, surrounded by sand and sea and a warm and welcoming community.
Mum was great for making up games for us to play … and managed to create quite a few that helped her with housework, like putting the laundry away.
“And we skippy, skippy, skippy to the beeeedddroom,” she’d sing, as we clamoured to grab the next piece of folded clothes, just so we could skip to the bedroom and stick it in a drawer.
My mother was no fool.
I’ve tried skipping as an adult when I need to put away my belongings. It doesn’t bring the same joy.
Did you know, unlike Father’s Day, the UK and US celebrate Mother’s Day on two different dates each year? In the UK, it is the fourth Sunday of Lent, and its origins date back to the 16th century. In the US, it falls on the second Sunday in May and was started by Anna Jarvis in the early 20th century. It began as a commemoration of Jarvis’s mother – who had always felt there should be a day recognising mothers – after she died, and grew from there.
Every column of mine is an education.
Mother’s Day is always neck-and-neck with Valentine’s Day when it comes to the busiest day of the year for florists. But there’s a lot more variety involved when it comes to the former. If you can find a red rose by the time the sun rises on 14 Feb., it’s probably the one that made a break for it when no one was looking.
My mum has always been a very practical person. She told us about three years ago that flowers are lovely, and all that, but really she’d just rather a card and a phone call than anything else. We’re lucky to still have her in our lives … and, bonus, that she doesn’t cost us much on these occasions. Win-win!
I was never into the idea of having children – for a number of reasons. But as I recently sat in my car outside the house, eating a sandwich in peace, listening to the radio, rather than going inside and being immediately beset upon by 10 cats waiting to cry for attention and food, I realised Leroy was right. And I had a brief window into what mothers tackle on a weekly basis.
I may not have human children, but mummy still needs a moment to herself from time to time.
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