It’s cold and dreary here this morning, and the rain and the damp makes one wake up kind of melancholy. I find on days like this I get thinking a lot, without the sunshine to brighten my mood, and that puts me in kind of a funk. With enough coffee or things to do, or sunshine breaking through after a few hours, it’ll pass. But until then, I tend to stew over things.
Today, I got to thinking back over the weekend, and Mother’s Day, for instance.
Mother’s Day is not a big deal to me, personally, because I never celebrated it as a child except when I was very small. As a matter of fact, it was a day that I came to dread because those were still the days of nuclear families, and teachers just didn’t have the deftness of mind to think of alternate activities for the kids without two-parent families on those parental holidays when the entire class was making handmade cards or gifts. Or perhaps they couldn’t be bothered. Whatever. But at any rate, it was a non-event for me. Or, at least, one that was studiously avoided by a motherless daughter.
And nowadays, it’s still not a big deal. I thought it would be hard for me, first during all the miscarriage/infertility business and now with the adoption, to have these holidays pass while I was still not a mom. But really, it’s been no big deal. I know for some women, it’s really hard. But for me, I don’t really feel I am missing anything, I don’t feel sad or anything — it’s just another day.
So I begin to wonder — is it suddenly going to be a big deal when I AM a mom? Am I going to care? Has 35 years of not recognizing it made it a non-event for me? I wonder. Some moms I know just think of it as a nice day, and they get some special recognition, which is a treat. I know other women who take the day very seriously. A few fellows I know are “grounded” for the day because it’s Mother’s Day, so they can be available to stay at home and help with the kids and, presumably, fuss over their wives. And I guess, in some households, it’s the only day “off” a mom gets, or the only day a mom feels she’s being thanked for her hard work. So I suppose that in those cases, it makes sense that Mother’s Day is a big deal.
But for me, I don’t know how it will be.
I know that in our little family as it is right now, we’re not terribly traditional about holidays anyway. We don’t celebrate Valentine’s Day, for example, with the thinking that if we have to set aside one day of the year to signify we love one another, then we’re clearly not doing our jobs the other 364 days of the year. And even on birthdays — if I know in advance that BDH has a soccer game or a business trip or whatever on my birthday, we’ll just do something another day. Or if he’s got something he really wants to buy, even if it’s the middle of summer and his birthday is in the fall, we’ll buy it and that’s his birthday present. And we buy each other treats and stuff during the year and call them “unbirthday” presents anyway. So birthdays are no biggie.
I suppose it all changes when you have kids, though. I mean, birthdays become a big thing because kids like having a special day. And I totally go all in for celebrating OTHER people’s special days. But when it’s my own, like Mother’s Day, I wonder… will I suddenly care? Will it suddenly become a big thing for me? I don’t know. Somehow I doubt it, but then, I don’t know. Maybe it will. Or maybe it will become a day when we remember Mystery Baby’s birth mother, as some families do. It’s hard to say — it’s all an unknown.
So many things are going to change when Mystery Baby is here and no longer a mystery. I wonder whether this will be one of them. It will require a quantum shift in my current thinking, but then, that’s what kids do to a person.
All part of the adventure, I guess.