Boundless

Now that my children are adults, I figured I might offer some generic advice on behalf of my fellow mothers of grown children, so we all have a clear sense of direction for Mother’s Day.

If your mother tells you that she doesn’t care about Mother’s Day, she’s lying. Don’t believe me? Fine. Don’t call her. See how that plays out. You may be too old to be grounded, but I assure you, she can still scold you right down the very fibre of your existence. You know I’m right. 

Call your mother. And be grateful for it. Many of your friends would give anything to hear their mother’s voice again. Don’t take her for granted. If you visit your mother in person, put your phone away. She doesn’t want to watch your Tik Tok videos or play with your Snapchat filters. She wants you to get a life. Eye contact and communication. Try it.

Also, don’t post photos of your mother on Instagram unless she has vetted them. Should you ignore this advice, I promise you that her post for your upcoming birthday will be a collection of embarrassing photographs from that time you cut your bangs with the kitchen scissors, or when you used Sharpie markers to play make-up, or the metal grill grin on full display in your Grade 8 grad photos (because she paid for your smile). 

Remember who you are dealing with here. 

Pay attention to the woman who carried you around inside her body for nine months while you kicked her, sat on her bladder and elbowed her in the ribs, made her ankles swell and disrupted her sleep (a trait you continued for months after, I might add), before you made your less-than-graceful entrance into the world at the expense of her pain threshold. You owe her your undivided attention for one day. 

Do not buy your mother a house plant. We don’t need another thing to take care of, you got that? Same thing goes for that kitten you want to bring home. Don’t. 

Motherhood is the hardest job on the planet and the pay sucks, so while it’s polite to say we wouldn’t have it any other way, that’s a lie. Your mother and I would like a six-figure income and for you to clean up your own messes, be it your bedroom/dishes/life/whatever. No pressure.

This helped, right?

Sincerely, I know this holiday can be difficult for those grieving the loss of their mother, a longing that returns us temporarily to the children we once were. 

Some experience a complicated relationship with their mother or a non-existent one for the sake of everyone’s peace. I see you. Boundaries are healthy. The patterns stop with you.

My mother, Lynda, gave me the childhood she deserved. I’m grateful for her influence in all I do, and her support on my motherhood journey. I know how fortunate my children and I are to have her. 

Happy Mother’s Day to the mothers who do the best they can, and to those who have passed on but watch over us still. You know they do. 

A mother’s love is boundless.

WriteOut of Her Mind