How the Grinch Pooped on Mother's Day

I love Mother's Day. Really, I do.

And, I've always wanted to be a mother. Ask my mother. She has this lovely blackmail shot of me, when I was 4 years old, hiking my shirt up to my shoulder, with a baby doll plastered against my nipple, "feeding" the thing. I mothered my dozen or so dolls for years and years, until I grew out of toys, at which point I started scheming ways I could acquire a baby of my very own, preferably without involving a man (I was like 13, okay?).

So yes. I love the whole motherhood institution.

But there's something about this holiday - just one thing - that has never sat well with me.

"Happy Mother's Day! Oh, you're not a mother. Well, that's alright; you will be someday so you can still celebrate it."

Um...

Thank you?

For years, this bothered me. I never really quite knew why.

Over the years, I've tossed out different reasons this was so desperately annoying.

16 years old: "All the women 18 and over got flowers at church today, whether they've produced offspring or not. That's stupid. I'm female. Why don't I get a flower?"

18 years old: "I got a flower. I'm not a mother. This... uh... kinda has no meaning. Thanks?"

I've tried to justify it to myself.

Self: When you celebrate all females over 18, it's not Mother's Day anymore. It's females-over-18 day.

Other piece of self: Okay, so you're saying only women who have popped out a baby are allowed to celebrate Mother's Day?

Self: Um... sort of? I mean, if you're pregnant you're a mother too. And if you adopt, you're definitely a mother... and stuff...

Other piece of self: What about women who CAN'T have children? Are you wanting to exclude them? Your own mother was in that camp for 3 whole years before she had Clarke.

Self: Oh, great. Guilt.

Other piece of self: Oh, I'm not done yet. Remember how you always felt when you were excluded from things? Do you want that for other people, whether they're infertile or not?

Self: Okay, okay! Fine! There's nothing wrong with it and I'm a horrible person.

And finally, I just decided I had an attitude problem.

And, if I'm being honest, I probably do have an attitude problem.

But that's not what this is about. 

This year, I got married. I've spent the last 3 Mother's Days in a BYU Single's Ward, where nobody is ever excluded, because nobody is a mother. Surprise! Funny how those BYU Single's Wards solve these kinds of problems.

But, this year, I was in a family ward.

And it started.

"Oh, you're married now! It must be so cool to be able to celebrate Mother's Day!"

Ummm... I thought I could celebrate it because I was over 18.

"Happy Mother's Day, married woman! It won't be long now until you really are a mother! Start celebrating now."

I didn't even have a snarky remark for that one. Something to the effect of, "I'm not even trying yet, gun-jumper," before deciding, "That's none of your business," would be more appropriate, albeit infinitely more rude, and therefore, no response necessary.

It all built up to today. I got a text from a poor, naive, well-meaning friend. He had no idea I was weird and took issue with this. And, of course, since I couldn't justify my issue to anyone, much less myself, it just made the issue that much more touchy. Something was wrong, but I didn't know what... therefore something was wrong with me, so I had every right to get defensive and bite people.

Right?

Makes sense, possibly?

Okay, fine. It makes no sense at all.

For the record, I didn't bite my friend. First of all, he was texting me, so biting wasn't actually an option. Second, rather than "virtual bite" him, I simply said he could look out for the coming, ranting blog post on the topic.

So, friend, here's the ranting blog post.

I'm not done yet.

Okay, so I got that text, and it sent me into full-stewing mode. What is my problem? Am I really so stuck on my own opinions that I'm willing to exclude anyone who hasn't grown a human in their belly... and/or adopted one? Okay, any woman who hasn't raised a child. Am I a horrible person?

But then, do I have a point? Is insisting that any woman who is 18 or over be allowed to celebrate Mother's Day diminishing the holiday, and robbing women who have raised children of their right to be...

Oh, wait...

And then it clicked.

I'VE BEEN QUALIFIED TO CELEBRATE MOTHER'S DAY SINCE 1986!!!

My HUSBAND is qualified to celebrate Mother's Day!

Why????

Whyyyyyyy????

Come on, do it.

Ask me why.

Disembodied voice: "Okay, why?"

BECAUSE I HAVE A MOTHER!!!!

I was so excited when I realized this: I AM a horrible, selfish person!!! Because Mother's Day isn't about me at all! It's not there so a woman can toot her horn because she possesses a uterus!

It's there for the kids.

Mother's Day exists so that I can stop for a second, and think, "My mother gave up so much for me. She sacrificed sleep for the first four years of my life, plus the first four years of all my siblings. My mother grew fangs and eagle talons when that jerk-man threatened me when I was thirteen, and he never dared to upset me again. My mother sat down with me and very patiently taught me how to read when I was just a dinky squirt. My mother snuggled me to sleep after every nightmare, treated all of us kids as fairly as possible, and made sure we knew we were smart and valuable. She gave up her personal alone time to homeschool all four of us, and put her writing career on hold until we were grown, just to make sure she was there for us. My mother was the best thing that ever happened to me."

I sat there in church, feeling quite at peace with myself. I finally understood, I'd had it wrong the whole time. Mother's Day wasn't about celebrating yourself because you have, or will, or at least possess the organs necessary to bare children. It's about looking back at your mother, realizing what she did for you, and feeling immense gratitude.

When church ended, the bishop got up and made the usual announcement: "If all the women over 18 would please stand, the deacons have a gift to give to you."

I stayed in my seat. I didn't need a flower to think about my mother. It wasn't about me, anyway. I was so filled with appreciation for my--

Was that CHOCOLATE???

I jumped to my feet.

I mean... if they're gonna hand it out to women, just because they're over 18... why not?