It’s Mother’s Day…Happy?!

I should have been elated for my special day. It was not the case. I think I am the only one aware in my household *that and my 5 year old* that this weekend was Mother’s Day. He brought me home a plant that he seeded himself in class and a card cut out to form the word MOM with his photo on the front. This was a work of pure genius. My other son brought me a golden dragon (for the Chinese Year of the Dragon that he and I share) that he crafted with his hands out of clay. It was wondrous and I quickly hid it from the boogery fingers of my step-son who I believe is responsible for the disappearance/defacing of the toes of a bird which was another of my son’s artistic creations.

My husband, who apparently places no stock in holidays, forgot and when he remembered, sought to console me with the fact that at the time our budget could not support a lavish gift to show me how much he cared…nice try buddy. Fact is, I don’t want expensive gifts, I happened to see in a store circular that was in my mailbox a silver bracelet for $17.99 which was simple yet classic. But I don’t think he has any inkling of what I like.

Maybe he stopped trying because the few times early in our marriage that he did try, the attempts created disastrous results.

I can think of one time in particular when he purchased what he thought was the power trio–balloons complete with stuffed animal accoutrement, red roses, and jewelry.

I like roses okay, so that wasn’t so bad, but I prefer brighter more elaborate/organic arrangements. Not just twelve clones sitting listlessly in a vase. Then there was the jewelry. I could tell he got help from the undereducated employee behind the counter of the chain store he purchased the item from (if the emblem emblazoned on the faux leather cover was any indication) because I generally don’t prefer emeralds and I don’t wear gold.

This was the least likely piece of jewelry suited as a gift for me–a gold necklace so delicate I could have snapped it in half merely putting it on. Sadly I have never been accused of being “delicate”. Careful and meticulous–yes. Delicate-not so much. The emeralds were little round cut stones arranged in an open pendant heart shape. It was the perfect gift for a 10 year old girl. Trite was the word that came to mind. Does that make me picky? Probably, but I knew I wasn’t going to wear it. I don’t wear gold. I have not worn it the whole time we’ve been together, not even when we were dating. So where would he get the idea that gold was appropriate for me?

It was apparent to me that he put the barest of thought into the project. It was like he sought to fill a void and not exactly give me something that he thought of specifically for me.

I am not a huge fan of random novelty stuffed toys. I think they are the bane of the planet, and bound to end up rotting in some landfill aside the stinky diapers that will outlast civilization. For example, I have had the same 1 teddy bear since I was 12 years old. This particular bear currently resides in my youngest son’s bedroom. Why would I want another, especially one emblazoned with the words “I Love You” and looking like it was assembled at gunpoint by some Micronesian sweatshop worker? OMG. It was so sad.

I don’t like to waste things, and things that have no purpose to me are a waste.

I love holidays though. And I like holidays where I am the recipient of something heartfelt and thoughtful. My son gave me that with his card and his plant that he presented to me as he stepped off his Kindergarten bus. The card is in front of my monitor. The plant is in the windowsill above my kitchen sink so I can water it and see it everyday. My daughter gave me art which I added to my collection of little things that I like to display and view. My mother mailed me a card with a lovely sentiment.

I don’t like cheap afterthoughts. To those gifts I say–don’t waste your time. My stepson gave me a card he made (that screamed afterthought! on its notebook paper and no design and bad, quickly scratched on handwriting like he was writing it in the bathroom with a timer on), only after my husband mentioned it was Mother’s Day yesterday (to his apparent surprise). It was never more apparent that he has been hiding under a rock the past week, which might explain all I had to greet me when he got home Friday was a second note for the week from his teacher to tell me how he couldn’t seem to keep his big mouth shut in class and save his opinions for a time and a place and people who wanted to hear them. Thanks son. What a gift. 34 more days…

I hope the rest of the celebrating world had a better Mother’s Day than I did. Sincerely I do. I am writing off this holiday, calling it a fluke and hope for the best next time around.