As a kid, Mother’s Day was about handmaking cards covered in hearts and flowers at school, and cooking mom breakfast in bed. I got it, but I didn’t really get it. My siblings and I often wondered why, if there was a Father’s Day and a Mother’s Day, there was no such day as a Children’s Day. (Ha.)
But now as a mother, on my first Mother’s Day, this day has taken on new significance. I don’t think it is possible to truly appreciate your mother until you become one yourself. You can love your mother to the moon and back, and be grateful for her never-failing support, guidance, and affection, but until you become a mother yourself it is impossible to understand the depths of love and self-sacrifice that come with motherhood.
It’s only now that I realise the number of sleepless nights, days of mental and physical exhaustion, unending worry, anxiety, and self-doubt, and sacrifice of personal space and identity that my own mother has given over the years. And then I start to feel bad about all of the attitude I gave her as a teenager (and beyond).
In one sense being a mother is a thankless job. But at the same time it is endlessly rewarding to watch your child grow and flourish, and those small moments of love and affection make it all worth it. But it never hurts to have your hard work recognised.
So on Mother’s Day make sure you take the time to celebrate and appreciate all of the mothers in your life. I know I will, because now I get it. I get what it takes to raise a child, and that even though we do it out of love and that it’s just part of the job, it’s always nice for the hard work of motherhood to be acknowledged.