If I ever said I could have imagined celebrating Mothers Day personally in the near future, I would have been lying.
Having celebrated Mothers Day with my own mother in the past, and Jade when she became a mother, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect for my first one. The feeling was cognisant of someone asking me if I feel any older on my birthday. No, I feel exactly the same. Don’t get me wrong. Being a mother isn’t just another “day in the life”; A LOT has changed, believe me. However, despite Liam being 6 months old, (6 months, yay!) I feel like maybe it still hasn’t sunken in yet? Not for the fact that I carried him for 8 months and gave birth to him but because I was in the mother role for so long before; longer than Liam has even been in existence. “But it’s different when you have your own.” I know, its supposed to be right? I remember the days of people asking me if I had any children to which I would reply, “I’m helping to raise my niece”, only to be told that it doesn’t count.
Doesn’t count? Count for what, exactly?
I beg to differ. It counted to me, so much so, that my first Mothers Day felt like ‘been there, done that’. Oh, and I’m not bitter about it, not in the least. I was presented with the opportunity to be a mother maybe a little early before my time, but it provided me with the patience, sensitivity, empathy and strength to tackle my own little bundle.
Bundle of joy?
Currently a bundle of mischief, but mine nonetheless.
One thing that did change for me this Mothers Day were all the Facebook videos dedicated to mothers. I could finally relate completely. I feel like us mothers, we’re a community and should always have each others back. I remember watching a video on “Mommy Bashing” and was surprised, (not really), to learn that a lot of “Mommy Bashing” is done by actual mothers. Like our job isn’t hard enough as it is already. I’ve found peace in the thought ‘there’s no such thing as a perfect mother’, although the idea of one sure makes for a great Mothers Day card.
I spent a nice relaxing day at lunch with Liam and John and his parents and there were plenty of families there celebrating Mothers Day. And I couldn’t help but think… Can I get this everyday? I don’t mean it in the cliche way either. I’m a Mother everyday, so I should be rewarded everyday, no? Spoilt, maybe. Its like Valentine’s Day, which I don’t celebrate, for the mere fact that it centralises on treating that ‘significant other’ like they’re more significant only on the day. I don’t know; personally I’d like to feel significant every day of the year.
Then I have to reflect. I may not wake up to a barrage of “Happy Mothers Day” but I do get “special treatment” everyday. It’s a little on the slimy side, and a little heavy handed, sometimes. But it’s as every bit as special as an afternoon lunch with a complimentary glass of bubbly. The soft (not really), caresses from Liam’s chubby fingers around my face as his little claws dig into my skin, his slimy saliva as he gums about every inch of my upper body he could attach himself to and the sheer shriek of delight as he responds to yet another one of the games we play; I’m getting more than special treatment.
And I don’t need a title on the day or a handful of balloons to know it.
Every day is Mothers Day.