Yes, that’s right, Mother’s Day is stupid. It’s a Hallmark holiday comprised of spending way too much money on things that were recently marked up to burn holes in consumer’s pockets. And guess what happens to the gifts you spent fortunes on? Even though your mother, kind and sweet as can be, tells you she’ll display it and cherish it forever, it eventually winds up in a corner with all the other worthless junk you got her from years prior. She’s your mother for goodness sake: she created you, she taught you how to even function, she literally is the reason why you are the way you are (whether that be good or bad) and she only gets worthless materialistic gifts and a single day of appreciation? Yeah, Mother’s Day is stupid.

Mom-

You make it that every single day I feel special, appreciated, and loved, so why is there no such thing as Children’s Day? Yeah, exactly. You carried me in your tiny tummy for months; I killed your back, I ruined your appetite, I stressed you out, I kicked you repeatedly, and I put you through agonizing pain. And there I was; your most treasured miracle. You always treated me as such. From the very first day, you immediately disposed of all selfishness in order to divert all your attention towards me, happily. You put up with all my shit, literally. You became a pro at diaper changing and cream rubbing. I kept you up at night, I shattered your eardrums with my crying and screaming and I never let you eat, but you still managed to love me more each day.

Along came my middle school years filled with awkwardness and confusion, for the both of us. I thought I knew all the answers all the time, but you let me figure out that I definitely did not have any answers at all. You walked me through the most uncomfortable time of my life with your hand griping mine tight. You entertained every one of my phases and although you knew it wouldn’t stick, you continued to support my wildest endeavors. I did not pursue my dreams of being a scientist, a veterinarian, or even a lawyer, but I do remember the way in which you pushed me to try and do my best. I promise I’ll cherish it regardless of whatever profession I end up in. I smart mouthed you, I yelled at you, I was embarrassed by you, but you still managed to love me more each day.

Alas, the dreaded most talked about teenage years...I’m sorry. Seriously. I became independent, or so I thought. I REALLY thought I knew all the answers, but this time life itself proved me wrong. Things became stressful with drivers ed, SAT/ACT, APs, and all the drama that came with teenage life. Your baby was growing up before your eyes no matter how much you tried to slow down time. Soon enough, I was dating, which gave you endless panic attacks. You helped mend my broken hearts despite all your prior warnings and advice. Just like that, I got my license and I was never home anymore. You’d beg me to stay in and spend time with you but somehow I always believed there were better things to do. You’d stay up, refusing to be at peace until you heard me come home at nights. I continued to take away your sleep, I pushed you away, I argued with you, I never listened to you, but you still managed to love me more each day.

Finally I was out of your hair, I moved out, which is what every teenager always looked forward to. The world was mine, I was unstoppable. I thought knew it all...until I started college. Suddenly I felt like a kid again, asking you how to do the simplest of tasks. How would I take on the world when I didn’t know how to do laundry by myself, or even how long to leave pizza in the oven. I quickly realized just how dependent I was and how much I actually needed you. Not only did I need you, but I desperately wanted you. Life just wasn’t the same; I would wake up to the smell of a room no one nagged me to clean instead of warm french toast. When I got sick I got a few instructions via text message instead of you constantly in my face forcing me to eat or drink things that hardly looked edible. Our conversations would be a few missed phone calls and nostalgic voicemails instead of you sitting in front of me asking me what’s going on in my life and not leaving me alone until I told you. In the time away from you the only real answers I ever really knew were that I’ve been selfish and I’m sincerely sorry.

I’m rude, I’m selfish, I’m self-centered and you didn’t raise me this way. I pushed you away when I needed you the most. I saw you as a tyrant with your strict rules. I rejected your attempts at trying to shape me. I blamed it all on your being from another generation. Although accurate, I also realized it is because your parents raised you that way; you were vicariously reliving your childhood through me so how dare I try to take that away from you? We never saw eye to eye because I didn’t appreciate you the way I should have. I dismissed your unconditional generosity and pure kind heartedness because I viewed you being my mom as your job all while you viewed it as a your privilege. I argued with you about everything, I challenged you everyday, I made fun of you for asking me how to do the dumbest things, forgetting you taught me how to use a spoon and even how to stand up. Believe me, I will always be filled with immense guilt for not reminding you every single day how much I appreciate you being my hero, role model, and inspiration.

So why is Mother’s Day stupid? Because one single day out of the year will never be enough to thank you for everything. It’s absolutely beyond me that there is a day designated to appreciating you... almost as if on Mother’s Day I appreciate you and the next day I don’t. I refuse to partake in this capitalistic corporate agenda that inadequately represents how special you really are. Every single day is Mother’s Day because every single day you are my amazing, incredible, hard working, selfless mother. An expensive card, a necklace, a picture frame will never be enough to truly show you how proud I am to be yours. I hardly see you anymore, I don’t talk to you as much, I don’t get to hug you as much, but I still manage to love you more each day.