I have ten going on twelve kids. However, when I hear, “Happy Mother’s Day” I think, “oh gosh, my mother…” and I make a bet she’s going to text me, despite that on my birthday I had told her that I (reasonably) did not want to hear from someone that was trying to take my children.
I don’t want my emotions to be ruled by a holiday, the same way that my mother would think, “oh gosh, my mother” as we prepared flowers if she and my grandmother were on talking terms. I respect that Mommy Man also does not allow for Mother’s Day to dictate how he should feel, celebrating “Other’s Day” in pride of his family. So I will condition myself to think of the joys of motherhood that I and many others around me are experiencing or preparing for. Happy Mother’s Day, Alice, Bailey, Daisy, and all the mothers in my life, mothers whose blogs I follow, and mothers who follow my own. I especially want to acknowledge the mothers that support their children and truly love them for who they are and not who they wish them to be. I feel that the difference makes all the difference.
I am a mother. I recognize that there is a possibility that the culture of my generation and my daughter’s may be as different as, or more so, than mine and my mothers, and maybe we will have disagreements just as large (I’m a realist, and sometimes a pessimist, so my mind goes there). I will be proud that she stands for what she believes in, even if it is against me, and I will not stand in the way of what makes her happy.