The homemade Mother’s Day card. Ah, the sentimental stuff on the one day of the year when you’re expecting it, and expected to love it. And of course, I love the homemade cards that I’ve gotten over the years from my kids. They’re always adorable, even if they’re sometimes just a jumble of scribbled markings, or have been cut up into smithereens by an overenthusiastic child who’s happy for any chance to use scissors.
But more important than what I receive from my kids is what I don’t receive. Sure, besides the aforementioned cards, I’ve received the requisite breakfast in bed, hand-picked flowers, handmade jewellery, and child-administered Mom make-over (photos of which I have never shown outside of this household). But over the years, I haven’t actually received “stuff”. The kids (and the Beloved Husband) know me well enough to not need to buy me anything. This is lovely, of course, because I know that they’re not putting stress on themselves to go out and buy the “perfect” gift, and not putting pressure on me to (pretend to) love more stuff that comes into this home.
So I’m proud that they celebrate Mother’s Day without the worry and the spending, and that at a young age, they instinctively appreciate this celebration as one that is truly about all the little things. It’s a Mother’s Day tradition that I hope will follow them for all Mother’s Days to come.