Mother's Day

 Like Anne Lamott, I'm not a great fan of Mother's Day. It's not clear to me why parenting demands a celebration--no one puts a gun to your head and requires you to become a parent. So the expectation of being celebrated--this feels narcissistic. At least until our culture establishes a Single Person's Day, and a Gay Uncle's Day, among several other random days that come to mind.

Recently, the Times ran a letter by a single woman who had an inner conflict. A friend was marrying for a second time--this friend was staging a splashy second wedding. The letter writer makes an annual trip to a particular concert with another single friend. There is a kneejerk reaction: A second wedding is "more important" than a single person's ritual. But why should this be the case? I admired the Times's response: Cite a scheduling conflict, go to the concert, and move on with your life.

My daughter brought home a Mother's Day card. In one spot, the paraprofessional had crossed out "mother" and had written "daddy." But--elsewhere on the preprinted card--the word "mother" remained. I briefly wondered if this was a microaggression or just a tired professional being tired--and I decided on the latter.

On the actual day, both of my children were a nightmare. We tried to go to the zoo; it was overstuffed. We then went to a park in Jersey City; my son became dysregulated because of the loss of the zoo experience. He physically attacked my spouse, who was trying to drive the car; this particular (recurring) turn of events is not a favorite of mine. My daughter refused to make a certain transition when everyone else wanted the transition--so thirty minutes were lost in the tedious "negotiation" outside of our parked car. The day was "an epic fail." I'd like to extract a lesson from all of this--i.e., avoid the zoo in early May--but I imagine I'll quickly forget. And life goes on.