On my first ever Mother's Day, my oldest was 7 months old and I was very sick. I thought it was just some bug, so I was womaning up and managing it…until I felt too weak to get my ass to the bathroom. My sister-in-law took me to the emergency room.
My appendix had ruptured. It turned out that because my labor had been so bad (piggy-backing contractions) that my understanding of pain, especially in my abdominal area, had been skewed so drastically that I didn’t realize that I was in heaps of pain.
Mother's day for me was spent in misery and in surgery. This was followed by a long hospital stay, more surgery, the loss of my ability to breastfeed, and very little time with my baby who was no longer interested in breastfeeding anyway.
I felt robbed.
My 7 months of momming, I felt, was a lot. I deserved some acknowledgement in the form of champagne and tiny handprints and praise. I had missed my first Mother’s Day.
Seven Mother’s Days later, there’s now three kids aged 3, 5, and 8.
My children love special days. It's a reason to make little presents, give me lots of hugs, hope for treats and, unfortunately, play special music.
My adorable children cheerfully scrubbed down the table so they could help me make waffles while listening to “Mother’s Day” sung in baby voices to the tune of jingle bells. It was all very sweet. But the horrible music plus all the lead up marketing got me thinking.
What is this thing that we’re doing?
Is Mothers’ Day actually a nice thing?
Or is it actually bullshit?
I think it’s actually bullshit and here’s why:
Let's start with the people for whom Mother’s Day is going to be painful:
Anyone who's lost their mother
Parents who have lost their partners
Women who can't have children
Women who've decided not to have children
Women who are trying to have children
Women who have lost a child
Women who have had and abortion
Birth mothers
Those who have conflicted mother-child relationships
Non-binary parents
Women in abusive relationships
Women who don’t have anyone in their lives to instigate a celebration for them
Mother’s Day can be conflicting for adopted children. It can create pressure for women who aren't sure if they want to have kids. It can be frustrating for those that do, but are looking for a partner or waiting for adoption or for whom the adoption and fertility industries leave behind. Mother's Day can be a day of hurt for a lot of people.
Mother's Day puts pressure on women to be mothers. It's a day to separate the mothers from those who are not mothers and to give flowers to the former. It reinforces the purveying social ideal that women aren't worthy unless they are mothers.
Mother’s Day fosters guilt. Guilt for not having appreciated your Mom over the rest of the year. Guilt at the last minute rushing to find the appropriate, hyper-gendered offerings to bestow on your mothers, mother-in-laws or spouses.
None of the above is even my main beef. It's what Mother's Day says. Mother's Day says that moms should be spending every other day of the year in service to their families and as a reward they get one day to have that reversed.
Let's talk about the ways we celebrate Mother’s Day, starting with the tradition of having kids do the cleaning. The only reason this is a treat is that it has been Mom's job to do the cleaning all year. This is not a Father’s Day Treat. On Mothers Day, you get food (brunch, breakfast in bed, etc.) because it’s implied that food for everybody else is your responsibility the rest of the year. You get “a day off” because on normal Sunday’s you’re running around getting shit done.
Mothers Day reinforces the idea that Motherhood = chores. Motherhood = housework. Motherhood = unending household labor.
This is not what motherhood is. The dishes and the laundry and the sweeping and the mopping (they always keep her hopping) is not parenting. It’s sure as hell not mothering. It's housework. The only thing that loosely links housework to motherhood is that when you have kiddos in house, there's a shit ton more of it to be done. This goes for mothers and fathers and grandparents. It goes for all caregivers - and anyone unfortunate enough to host us on a vacation.
Housework is not something you sign up for when you decide to have a baby. Nor is the mental load of doctors appointments, dentist appointments, arranging child care and transportation. THIS is the invisible labor that has been sneakily attached to motherhood. This is the unacknowledged infrastructure that makes every industry possible. It is expected of us, except no one ever told us so. We just fell into it when we had our babies.
Mother’s Day is a day where we recognize (but never spell out) “everything a mother does.” It’s an opportunity to drive home that expectation - These are all the things you should be doing.
Which leads us to the worst, most insidious part of Mother's Day: praise.
Mothers are praised for their love and caring, but mostly, their patience, selflessness and understanding. We're not only expected to take on this Mother Load, we’re expected to do it quietly and uncomplainingly. The more we give up, the more we are praised. The less we rest, the more we are praised.
If we want to actually empower mothers, rather than trap them, let’s make sure we’re celebrating all women for the achievements that enrich their own lives as well as those of others. When they get a degree, when they get a new job, when they get a promotion, when they launch a business, when they run a marathon, when they win a competition, when they succeed at the things they’ve put their effort and their very limited time into.
Instead of celebrating women who are mothers one day a year, let’s support them with universal paid leave and early child care.
For all you mamas reading this, your value doesn’t come from housework. You do not earn your place by sacrificing yourself. You are somebody’s child and you are valuable just as your weird and beautiful self, just for existing.
Show your babies that they too are valued for themselves. Show them how to make amazing things happen for themselves. Show them by valuing yourself and demanding that you be valued.
You deserve a break more than once a year.
For those of you struggling this Mother’s Day, we see you.
I treasure tiny handprints. I’m always up for champagne. But more importantly, I have a business I’m about to launch. And I want to celebrate the fuck out of that.
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