Mother's Day: Mother May I?

Our Mother's Days used to be spent like every other holiday. With our moms. Before Chris and I had kids, we'd take each of our moms out to eat and give them flowers.

Chris' mom always protested that it was not necessary. Mother's Day was transparently superficial, a blatant contrivance of greeting card companies and florists. She insisted that it was not a significant day, no more or less special to her than any other Sunday.

And that's how it was, for years and years... until the year I became a mother. And Mother's Day became sacred.

That was right after Chris explained that we were exhausted with our new baby and suggested maybe we could skip the usual formalities. "What? Now you're a father and I'm no longer your mother?"

Eventually, we realized the sudden conversion had nothing to do with Chris and me. Or Mother's Day, really. It was an opportunity for the grandparents to see their grandchild. Non-negotiable.

So, after a few more years and another Mother's Day with a second new baby, I decided to assert myself. I was now a mother of two and felt it was time for our family to gain a little independence. Our moms would have to understand and accept Grandparents Day as their special day...

Mother's Day was mine!

I admit I felt a little guilty. Okay, a lot guilty. But I figured if I was really wrong, there would be a sign.

Mother's Days since then:

2002:    Sequestered in bedroom so Chris & kids can make 'surprise' breakfast. Allowed to emerge 6 hours later after
            fourth attempt at pancakes was moderately successful & all fires were extinguished.

2003:    Mikaela sick. Chris watches 3 soccer matches on tv.

2004:    Chris sick. Chris watches 3 soccer matches on tv.

2005:    Visit zoo. Along with the rest of Houston who had same idea. Police barricade zoo entrance just as we find
            parking spot.

2006:    Find favorite restaurant closed so owner can "Enjoy Mother's Day!" Chris goes into action with backup plan B
            and we accomplish everything on the list -- the one he made for his upcoming Father's Day.

2007:    Tire blows out halfway to state park. Scenic hike to service station.

2008:    Storm. Streets flooded, lose electricity. Ice cream floats by candlelight.

2009:    Big business trip to Hawai'i. Will simultaneously prove Mother's Day is not jinxed.
            Plane flight included. Swine flu extra.
            Vice President Joe Biden goes on national tv and says, "I would tell members of my family -- and I have -- I
            wouldn't go anywhere in confined places now. It's not that it's going to Mexico. It's that you're in a confined
            aircraft. When one person sneezes, it goes all the way through the aircraft."
            In other words, only go on this trip when pigs [don't] fly... Cancel hula-hula and lei low.

I think there is a subtle message here somewhere. Probably that God loves irony as much as I do. Or, maybe it's mere coincidence. Clearly it would be egotistical to assume all that effort was just for me. (Besides, then it would be called karmama...  and it's not. Is it?)




Still, I can't help but feel like I must be missing something. If only I were going out to lunch with Mom today, I could just ask her...  





Anyway, Katrianna already knows the answer. In what's become an annual ritual, she pats me sympathetically and points out, with a mix of wistfulness and incredulity, "But, Mom, isn't every day Mother's Day?" Absolutely, I have to agree with her. And I celebrate that fact daily, 364 days a year.