We say yes, yes and yes.
Mother’s Day can bring all sorts of emotions. Sadness, frustration, happiness, guilt. Not to mention resentment, gratitude, joy, more frustration.
I remember my first ever Mother’s Day being a complete anti-climax. I invited both sets of parents over. Our baby was less than three months old and, honestly, I wasn’t feeling that great. Tired, flat, lost. But this day would celebrate everything I was doing, it would be a poignant moment worthy of photographing. It wasn’t really.
As I stood in the kitchen trying to whip up a ‘special lunch’ to make the day perfect for our own mums, I suddenly felt a wave of anger at how no one was making the day right for me. The anger wasn’t aimed at my husband but at the concept itself for promising more than it could deliver. At capitalism, at myself for not asking for more help, at society for not giving more help, at the situation I’d created (stuck sweating in the kitchen while everyone else enjoyed cuddles with my baby), at anyone who ever told me it would come naturally or easily. Alongside guilt for not being more grateful – I had my own mum living close by and a perfect baby girl, how could I complain?
I’ve since had some lovely Mother’s Days. We don’t often do that much but a long walk in the spring sunshine is pretty special. I’ve learnt to lower my expectations, not in a defeatist way, just in a way that recognises this is just one day. I’ve realised that all the things I felt that day are fairly common, and that this day is complicated for lots of people. And most importantly perhaps, I’ve learnt to ask (or am learning to ask) for what I want and need. We do SO much caring and SO much logistical planning as parents that wanting a day off from all that isn’t something to be ashamed about.
This might include time to see my own mum but without the stress of dragging everyone to a busy pub where we pay good money to spend two stressful hours offering up sticker books and screens to keep the kids quiet. Or requesting a massage voucher or some new slipper socks, things I actually need, rather than feeling horribly ungrateful when I receive something random that I don’t like.
And yes, it might actually be that after the kids have brought me breakfast in bed and showered me with their home-made cards (beautiful and precious), they then head out to the park so I can read the papers in peace. Or it might be to decide to do something with the kids that we ALL enjoy followed by a takeaway in the evening. Or even consciously deciding to ignore altogether a day that doesn’t feel good!
This might sound a bit cold and calculated but the alternative isn’t always much fun either, or at least not if it includes simmering resentment, continued exhaustion and a niggling intolerance of the heavily filtered posts you can’t help but see on Instagram.
You 100% deserve to have a day (not just a day but let’s start somewhere) doing exactly what you want to do.
You 100% can communicate what you want and need and shouldn’t feel guilty about doing so.
You 100% shouldn’t have to organise your own day BUT if you do (for whatever reason), then this is likely to be worthwhile and lead to a more positive outcome.
So, with that in mind, what do YOU want Mother’s Day to feel like? And once you know the answer to this question, how would you like to spend your day? Slow, gentle, full of adventure or surrounded by family? Getting outside, eating something you haven’t cooked, doing something creative, or not doing much?
It is easy to dismiss Mother’s Day as a commercial dream and another thing on the to-do list. But maybe it could be something else. It could be a catalyst for thinking about how your needs matter beyond a single day of the year. A chance to be honest about how motherhood feels sometimes. And an acknowledgement that however that is, and it will no doubt be numerous different feelings all at once, that this is normal and ok. Motherhood is the hardest and most rewarding job in the world.
And most of all, a reminder that mothers themselves are worthy of, and require, attention, time and care.
Hopefully, you can give yourself permission to take it.