Mother’s Day

Is it just me, or has Mother’s Day morphed into a hunger games like battle of the wits?

What is billed as a day to celebrate mothers, motherhood and all things feminine, has morphed into a veritable battle royal for a solid chunk of the market share of cards, chocolates, flowers and jewelry. It’s a meal fest of brunches, lunches and dinners, that seem to outstrip the excess of Christmas and Easter combined—the abject fuss of over celebrating has trumped any sense of poignancy and reflection.

But the gravity of Mother’s Day is more apparent as we age. As time trundles on it condenses our need to reflect on what has been lost as our parents age. It allows us pause to consider how quickly children grow, boobs and tummies sag and marriages and relationships get battered by the intensity of modern life. Once a very personal day that was ripe with hugs, kisses, burnt toast and cereal in bed, homemade cards and cute drawings, Mother’s Day seems to have been hijacked into another Hallmark holiday rife with stress and pressure to entertain.

Rather than a personal family celebration of love and togetherness, Mother’s Day has become a competitive event. The sad reality is that it requires more hard cash to fulfill all the expectations, gifts, meals etc. and a large family unit to pull off the extravaganza.

As a mature mom, I hope I have gained some perspective. My thoughts turn to those who are grieving long lost grandmothers, mothers, wives and friends, to those who are single parents who are struggling, empty nesters whose kids are too busy to care and to those desperately trying to become mothers as school, longer career trajectories and delayed marriages place a burden on young women racing against their own personal biology.

For all the brave ladies, no cards, expensive gifts or fancy meals can replace what is lost or absent. To truly honor the women who made us and molded us in to who we are, I plan to take a moment. I want to be grateful and raise a glass to the wonderful, wise and strong women who have come before me. Motherhood requires love, care and sacrifice on a minute by minute basis. There is no gift or meal that suffices when the gift is the joys, sorrows, loves and wonder that defines motherhood today.


Let’s dispense with the niceties here. I am 47, married, a stay at home mom , with a husband and twin old boys all of 5…that should provide enough material on which to wax poetic or gripe unmercilessly.

But we all need more than that don’t we?

On this blog you can expect commentary on issues serious (and not so serious), from parenting to menopause, work, husbands , children, school, extracuriculars, aging parents, hot flashes and a sweet doddery pug who poops at random. Usually in the playroom. Usually on the boys Legos.

Oh lord another mummy blog? Not so. I hope with a bit of humor, a glass of wine and some European flair, I can deliver a fresh perspective to many of our concerns as we careen ahead in full speed fabulous mode.

While a beautiful scarf and great lipstick often save the day, I have yet to perfect how to pull off a sexy nighty with cotton socks on, feet drenched in Vaseline and reading glasses perched on my nose, with a hope that I can see the book I am trying to read.

Me, motherhood, wifedom, friendship. It is a glorious work in progress and one I hope you will share…