So you’re celebrating Mother’s Day on Sunday are you? Actually, you’re probably not.
Mother’s Day, like hot dogs and baseball, is an American creation.
In 1914, US president Woodrow Wilson signed a proclamation creating Mother's Day, the second Sunday in May, as a national holiday.
Europe was, of course, otherwise engaged at that time and Anna Jarvis's maternal celebration took a little longer to spawn a card-selling commercial frenzy in these parts.
Jarvis became super annoyed by this commercialisation of Mother's Day.
Her original intention had been to honour mothers by hand-writing a personal letter, expressing love and gratitude; it wasn’t to buy gifts and pre-made cards.
She organised boycotts to oppose the exploitation of her laudable concept. She failed, but any mammy who has ever propped up a bit of coloured sugar paper while it spewed bits of stuck-on pasta and glitter onto the mantelpiece will tell you that Jarvis was right to put up a fight.
If you are lucky – or unlucky (depending on how this level of childish dependency is sitting with you at the moment), you may have found the screwed-up remnants of some manner of card at the bottom of your offspring’s schoolbag yesterday.
Guilt-trip
Dry out the stains and put it on display. You will not be getting such a missive for eternity.
This Sunday, we will raise a glass of prosecco (€8, SuperValu) and splash on a bit of Suddenly Woman scent (Lidl, €3.99) if we are lucky – and if we started guilt-tripping our offspring early enough.
Posh English mothers can expect a personal butler sent by Fortnum & Mason to cook them a lavish breakfast (no, he will not bring it to you in bed).
If you have behaved impeccably as a mother you may receive the Coleman Douglas triple strand pearl necklace (Fortnum & Mason, £295.00 – steeper-sounding at €412).
If young Hugo has been able to squeeze in a bit of internet shopping between his games of Eton Fives, that is.
Here in Ireland, Mothering Sunday is a Christian celebration falling on the fourth Sunday in Lent. Presumably there's a dispensation for the prosecco.
Compulsory cards
Apart from the compulsory cards produced in National School, which I did quite like, (they are in the attic, I think), my family has never celebrated Mothering Sunday, Mother’s Day, or anything of that nature. We have never celebrated Father’s Day either, to keep everything gender equal and perfectly fair.
My own mother doesn’t get a card. I’ve explained why . . . capitalist conspiracy, women’s oppression, not asking to be born.
The reasons have varied over the decades, depending on my state of maturity and mentality.
One hundred years after she gave birth to Mother's Day, I still agree with Anna Jarvis.
Pop your appreciation down on a piece of paper, if you want, don’t spend money on bunches of flowers and pink cards.
As I said already, no one asked to be born.
