How Did Your Mother’s Day Without Children Go?

Mother’s Day is over, hallelujah. How did you do?

One reader told me she had a nice get-away day and was able to ignore the mom’s day hysteria. Another attended a family gathering. When her godchild wished her a happy Mother’s Day, her niece corrected her with “She’s not a mother.” Ugh. One of the guests handed a rose to every woman in honor of her motherhood. Awkward.

Mother’s Day is tough, and not just for those of us who are childless. People whose mothers have died or who have difficult relationships with their mothers struggle through the day. People who don’t get along with their children, whose children have died, or whose stepchildren fail to recognize them as mothers all have a hard time with Mother’s Day.

I don’t think anybody has the kind of Mother’s Day we see in the TV commercials. First, the mothers are pictured as gorgeous young women. Whose mom looks like that? Second, the family drops everything to honor her. Third, they buy her gifts that cost hundreds of dollars, like jewelry and iPads. It was never like that in my family.

I did pretty well on the actual holiday this year, although I had a meltdown the night before. A friend had been complaining that her children didn’t honor her properly, so she hated Mother’s Day. She wanted me to comfort her by taking her to brunch. No freaking way. Then she posted a picture on Facebook of the gorgeous roses her husband bought her. Hello? No kids, dead mother AND no husband over here. Yes, I was a weepy mess.

I played piano at the Saturday evening Mass. Our pastor really tried to be inclusive, offering his blessing to “all women who serve the role of mothers.” He didn’t pass out flowers to the mothers or make them stand while those of us without kids sat in shame, but it was still painful.

I stayed too long on Facebook. After the third friend in a row posted pictures of her Mother’s Day flowers, I got offline and stayed off until Monday. I didn’t miss anything except endless Mother’s Day posts.

On Sunday, I stayed home from church and piddled around the house until time to join friends for a music jam. We had a small group. Some were absent because of Mother’s Day, but that gave the rest of us more chances to sing and play. We had guitars, fiddles, a mandolin, harmonicas and three great female voices to harmonize. It was so much fun I forgot to feel bad.

Afterward, I watched a rerun of the movie “The Bucket List.” Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman. So good.

That’s how I survived. How about you? What will you do differently next year?

Get Through Mother's Day with Distraction and Action

Here were are again, on the eve of Mother's Day. I noticed TV commercials touting gifts for "Mom" in early April. Now the dreaded day is this Sunday. The people who promote this Hallmark holiday have no idea how difficult it is for those of us who wanted children and don't have them and also for those of us whose mothers and grandmothers are no longer alive. All this Mother's Day hoorah just reminds us of what we don't have and makes us want to go hide in a cave. Right?

Over the years I have mellowed from being viciously angry all day to resigned. I have come to accept that this is not my holiday. Just like Chanukah for Christians or Christmas for Jews. Just like it's not my birthday. So I need to be a big girl and get over it. Sure. Sometime on Sunday, it will get to me. But I'll live, and so will you.

To survive Mother's Day, I recommend distraction and action.

Avoid everything that reminds you that it's Mother's Day and you're not a mother. (Guys, apply the same rules next month for Father's Day). Avoid TV, Facebook and other social media. Don't go to restaurants where they greet you with Happy Mother's Day and a flower. The mall is probably a bad idea, too. You don't want to see mothers surrounded by their loving children.

If you have a mother, grandmother, godmother or other mother-figure still living, make the day about her, not you. As for your sisters, cousins and friends, let their spouses and children honor them. Send  a card if you must, but don't go overboard. If they complain, explain that you love them but Mother's Day hurts too much to get involved.

If your partner has children or grandchildren, expect nothing from them. They have their own mother. If they actually remember to honor you, too, be gracious and grateful, but don't make yourself crazy waiting for a card or gift.

Distract yourself with creature comforts and non-motherly activities. Go hiking. See a movie in an actual theater. Go to a spa. Stay in bed with your sweetie and make love all day. Read at a beach or a swimming pool while sipping pina coladas.Throw yourself an Unmother's Day party at which no one is allowed to mention babies or children.

Remember, it's just one day, and then, thank God, it will be over for a whole year.

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Last week I posted a long comment from "Sam" about his childless dilemma with his wife who couldn't have children. Several of you responded with great comments. Go to the post to see what people said and maybe add a comment of your own.
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Happy Wednesday, dear friends.

Duck! Mother's Day is Coming Again

If we're to believe the images we see in the TV commercials, Mother's Day is a joy to all women. Their children shower them with gifts, Hallmark cards, and breakfast in bed, and the whole family gathers to honor the grandmothers and great-grandmothers. Picture little girls in frilly dresses hugging their moms and grand-moms. Picture big picnics, feasts at a big dining room table, or gatherings at a favorite restaurant. Picture flowers and cards, and the whole world wishing you a happy Mother's Day because you, the mother, deserve it.

Yeah. Now picture what it's really like for many of us. First, our mothers may be dead or terminally ill or we don't get along. The holiday emphasizes the fact that we don't have a mother to honor. Second, we don't all have children. We go to church and feel left out when special prayers are said for the mothers. We go out to eat, and the waiter assumes we're mothers, but we're not. We go to a family gathering and feel left out because we're the only ones without kids. We wait all day for some kind of acknowledgement from our stepchildren, and it doesn't happen. Everywhere we look, people are talking about Mother's Day, and it makes us feel like crap.

For those who are mothers, congratulations. Enjoy your day. For the rest of us, if we can focus on the moms in our lives, that's a great thing to do. If you just can't, run away until it's over. It's a good day to turn off the TV, stay away from Facebook, and avoid going to restaurants. How about a hike, a walk on the beach, or a movie instead?

I'll be playing music for two Masses at church and then going to my monthly song circle. In between, I'll probably have lunch with a friend who hates Mother's Day as much as I do. Her mother, like mine, has died. She has adult children, but their relationship is rocky. So I'll pretty much do what I usually do on Sundays, and I'll enjoy it.

Over the years, Mother's Day has gotten easier for me. It will for you, too, I promise. Try not to get yourself all upset about it. If you need a good cry, go ahead and cry. Then move on. It's just one day.

Mother's Day is Coming; Duck and Cover

It’s almost Mother’s Day. For everything I’m seeing all around me, it already is Mother’s Day and it lasts for several weeks. I don’t know many women who actually enjoy Mother’s Day. Most of us either don’t have kids, do have kids but don’t get along with them, don’t have a living mother to honor or don’t get along with their mothers and grandmothers. For everybody, the day seems to be fraught with tension. Have to get a gift. Have to send flowers. Have to take Mom out to brunch. But what are the siblings doing? Poor Mom can get pulled around among the kids till she feels like a Stretch Armstrong doll.

But we who do not have children can choose to ignore this day. It’s like National Secretaries Day or Canada Day. If we’re not secretaries and not Canadian or close to people who are, it has nothing to do with us.

Mother’s Day is hard. It reminds us of everything we don’t have. The main problem is the onslaught of advertising that insists we all have these happy families full of children, parents and grandparents who can’t wait to celebrate “Mom” with expensive gifts and tear-jerking cards. It builds up an expectation that is rarely fulfilled. I’ll bet if you asked mothers whether Mother’s Day was everything they’d hoped for, they’d say no. Well, maybe that one time back in 1983 . . .

It’s an advertising-based mass hysteria, sort of like the craziness that gets built up around the American Idol contestants. Last week when they went “back home,” they were honored with parades, speeches, and huge gatherings of fans bearing signs and gifts. The crowds were going nuts. Even little kids were screaming the Idols’ names. Now surely these people don’t all care that much about Angie or Kree or Candice. But they’ve been told over and over that it's a REALLY BIG DEAL, so now they’re out on the streets screaming and bursting into tears because they met an American Idol. Those are manufactured emotions, my friends, and I think a lot of what we’re made to feel on Mother’s Day—and Father’s Day to a lesser extent—is also manufactured emotion.

Yes, we love our mothers and many of us who don’t have kids yearn to be mothers, but the bigger the hype the more it hurts. It’s hard to avoid; it’s everywhere. I went to our local department store a few days ago, and the staff kept making announcements about Mother’s Day sales and things we could buy for “Mom.” I passed displays of flowers, dresses and gift baskets, and my receipt came with a coupon for the jewelry department. The local paper is loaded with restaurant ads for Mother’s Day brunch and information about Mother’s Day activities.

Some of you will be attending gatherings of family or friends where you’ll be face to face with other people's babies and with relatives who want to know why you’re not reproducing. You have my sympathy. I’ll be doing music all day, first at church—yes with its special prayer for mothers—and then at a song circle where with luck nobody will even mention Mother’s Day.

It’s a tough day. It took me years to stop being a ball of anger all day long, but I’m learning to let it go. You can, too, with time and practice. Meanwhile, if you can avoid the holiday craziness by going out in nature, watching a movie marathon or staying in bed all day, do it. If not, do your best to honor the mothers and not take it personally.

If you want to read more about Mother’s Day by people who understand how you feel, here are links to Marcy Cole’s Huffington Post piece, "Mother's Day for Childless Women," and author Anne Lamott’s classic on “Why I Hate Mother’s Day.”

Hang in there. On Monday, Mother’s Day will be over for another year.

Happy un-Mother's day

I know it's not quite Mother's Day yet, about five hours to go here in Oregon, but it's Mother's Day somewhere, and you may have noticed that the mania started early. Advertisements for gifts for Mom, friends planning Mother's Day activities, radio shows playing mother-centric songs--it's everywhere. Even on Facebook, it's Mom, Mom, Mom.
It occurred to me as I was walking my dog through the woods a little while ago, that there's nothing out there in nature to make us feel bad about not having children. The trees don't care. The squirrels aren't running around buying gifts for their mothers. The mama robins aren't stressing out over whether they'll get presents tomorrow. Just get away from the media, and you'll be fine.

I went to a post-wedding shower this afternoon. It was lovely, high tea elegantly served in a beautiful house, followed by gifts and wedding pictures. Everybody else there except the new bride is not only a wife but a mother, and the bride is actively trying to get pregnant. I felt a bit like a purple goose in a field full of white ones. But that's okay. We must learn to be proud of our purpleness. God made us purple for a reason.

I ran across a great column at Salon.com by Anne Lamott called "Why I Hate Mother's Day." You might want to read it. Anne is a mother, but she gets how we feel.

My own un-Mother's Day gift to you is the release of Childless by Marriage, the Kindle ebook. Click here to buy it for only $2.99. Cheaper than the cocktail you might get to wash your troubles away.

Try not to feel sorry for yourself today or to dishonor the mothers in your life just because of your own lack of children. Go do something you enjoy. The day will pass and you can forget about it for another year.

Surviving another Mother's Day

Dear friends, it's almost Mother's Day. If you're anything like me, you hate this day. It's all about mothers, and you are not a mother. People who don't know you assume that you look like a mother and must be one, and that makes it hurt all the more. Everywhere you turn, you see tributes to "Mom," advertisements for gifts and special activities for "Mom" and people planning family get-togethers to honor "Mom." You might even be hosting or attending one of these events this weekend. I'm sorry. I'll be leading the choir at two Masses at church on Sunday morning, so I'll get to experience the Mother's Day prayers and the after-Mass brunch twice. Then I'll go home to my dog.

For me, Mother's Day is not as bad as it used to be. For a while, especially after my mother died, the whole thing turned me into a raging crazy woman. I used to expect cards and gifts from the stepchildren, and that didn't happen. I get it. They have their own mother and grandmother to honor. It's just a tough day.

To survive, I urge you to avoid as much of the Mother's Day mania as you can. Do something that makes you feel good, preferably far away from mass media. If you can't, try to focus your energy on honoring people you love. Try not to obsess about what you don't have.Think of Mother's Day like Father's Day or Secretaries Day or Brussell's Sprouts Appreciation Day. It has nothing to do with you, so let it go.

And here's another antidote, shameless plug intended: Childless by Marriage, the Kindle ebook, is available now as at Amazon.com. You don't have to have a Kindle to read it. You can download the Kindle reading program for free on any computer or smart-phone and most tablets such as the iPad. So curl up with a book and ignore the craziness until Mother's Day goes away. You might want to skip ahead to the chapter called Mother's Day Rant.

The print book will be out this summer, but you can read the ebook today for only $2.99.

Another antidote: Feel free to rant about Mother's Day here in the comments all you want.  We're here for you.

Surviving Mother's Day

Dear childless friends, the Mother's Day assault is on. In the course of three minutes of channel surfing the morning shows, I came across gifts for "Mom," a Mother's Day breakfast cooking demo, and two TV show hostesses wishing each other "Happy Mother's Day." It's enough to drive a childless woman nuts, especially if she didn't exactly choose to be childless. Do I hear an AMEN?

I jotted down a few suggestions for surviving this holiday.

* Either avoid the television until after Mother's Day or record the shows you want to watch and skip the commercials. Or, watch DVDs until it's over.

* Instead of dwelling on your own lack of children, honor the women who are mothers in your life--your mother, grandmothers, sisters, friends and others. By taking the attention off yourself, you may be able to put a positive spin on Mother's Day.

* Buy yourself a gift. You know you deserve it.

* If you have stepchildren, don't expect them to show up bearing gifts. They're busy with their real mother and probably won't even think about you. Don't take it personally.

* Avoid restaurants and mom-oriented events. Get away from it all by going hiking, to the gym, to a movie, to the dog park, or something else where the emphasis is not on moms and their children. I'm attending a poetry conference this weekend.

Here's another suggestion, and this is important. If you really feel that your life will be ruined if you never have kids and that your partner will never understand, perhaps it's time to think about giving him an ultimatum: If we can't conceive or adopt a child together, I'm out of here. Do it while you still have time. For me, I think Fred was worth the sacrifice, but that's not always the case.

Overall, try not to feel sorry for yourself. If necessary, duck and cover until it's over. Happy, um, Monday.

I'd love to hear your suggestions.