Can we stop with the Mother's Day spam?

Of course I like Mother's Day. The crafted tea box, the painted works with flowers and the text ‘Ma-de-liefste’, the jar with papers containing sweet things that I can grab one from on an off day, and then receive a cup of tea, a foot massage, or a tidy children's room. At least as sweet as the gifts themselves, I find the organization of the teachers who ensure that such a package goes home on time. Even if there is such a long May holiday in between. I would sadly fail at that as a teacher, because planning is not my strongest suit.

I also look forward to a breakfast in bed and that I will say ‘yes, please’ all day long, but that's where it ends. In recent weeks, what am I saying: months, a flood of Mother's Day spam has been fired at me. Newsletters on the left, flyers in the mailbox on the right, and of course that hurricane of TV commercials. Every brand tries to boost sales again by drenching their goods in a Mother's Day sauce. And that bothers me.

Firstly, because I simply believe that Mother's Day is about crafting. Gluing, kneading, creating things that someone else probably finds too ugly to look at, and I will start crying as soon as it is conjured up from behind those little backs. That's it, and it should remain that way. Or are we now hopping from Valentine's Day via Mother's Day to Father's Day to grow the sales of things we don't need?

Aside from the fact that I, I'm just a human too, catch myself suddenly adjusting my wish list much more upwards (I suddenly fantasized about that cuff earring from Hermès) than that one cup of tea in bed, I find it especially painful for all those non-mothers. Women who are childless by choice or women whose child is no longer alive.

So please, can we stop the Mother's Day spam. Let's keep it to crafting and cups of tea, that keeps us mothers a lot humbler and doesn't unnecessarily bother other women.

What might be a good idea is to give those women without children a sweet little gift on Sunday. Preferably homemade or brewed.

With love,
May-Britt