WHAT MOMS REALLY WANT FOR MOTHER’S DAY
No need for more mugs and wine glasses; for starters try these life-stage suggestions
Every 12 months our inboxes groan with lists of “unique” gifts “mom would love for Mother’s Day.” Maybe it’s just me, but you know what moms don’t love? Lists that urge our kids to spend money they don’t have for stuff that has little to do with the bond between mom and child.
I can’t remember, for example, ever pining for a temperaturecontrolled ceramic mug, a cashmere wrap or wine glasses that say “Keep Calm & Drink Wine” and “Mommy’s Little Sippy Cup.”
The best gifts, of course, aren’t things. And the perfect gift for a mom depends on which stage of parenthood she currently inhabits.
Here’s a guide to help you get started:
STAGE I: SLEEP-DEPRIVED AND OVERWHELMED
The Stage I Mom is so exhausted that in-patient surgery sounds like a tempting vacation. Her offspring rarely sleep, and her rare “breaks” — when a partner, relative or friend take the kids to the park — are euphemisms for more housework: Throw in a load, empty the dishwasher and start a frozen pizza while downing a glass of wine.
Here’s what the Stage I Mom really wants: A day to herself (meaning nobody home). Stash delicious food in the fridge for her. Suggest that she watch favourite shows or read a good book or take a bath (key hint: Clean the tub and set out gorgeous lotion next to clean towels that you washed and dried).
She will try to thank you profusely. Raise your hand and say, “Stop right there. No thank you necessary today. This is your day — the kids and I are … gone.”
Then don’t come back. For, like, the entire day. Six p.m. would be good, 8 p.m. would be even better.
STAGE II: UNDERAPPRECIATED, AND STILL SLEEP-DEPRIVED
The Stage II Mom doesn’t see her tweens or teens enough; at least, she doesn’t see them when they’re being nice to her. She’s at the office or asleep. The kids are usually in school, on the soccer field or holed up in their bedrooms. The Stage II Moms know the kids still live at home because they emerge to tell her how old/ lame/unfair she’s being at least once — maybe twice — a week.
The Stage II Mom would love a gift that focuses on spending a yesteryear-like day with her family.
Go out for a beautiful brunch with everyone showered, nicely dressed and smiling; or take a long hike at her favourite spot; or dig into takeout Thai at home while watching an old familyfavourite movie together. The key component is smiles, because the Stage II Moms want to spend time with people who seem pleased to be with them.
The Stage II Moms also appreciate a fully washed car. Other cool ideas for Stage II? One kid alphabetized her mom’s spices as a gift. Another created a play list for her iPod. And one teen boy arranged to take his mother out to dinner.
She may be too choked up to respond to these gifts, but she will remember them forever.
STAGE III: WELL-RESTED, BUT PINING FOR THE DAYS OF YORE
This woman has survived pregnancies and miscarriages (possibly a stillbirth), newborns, children with special needs, puberty and entire years of worrying about her ducklings living so far away at college or university.
That initial swath of time when her kids moved on? Brutal. At this point a long nap, a beautifully scented bath or a good book won’t cut it. Very little soothes the grief that’s descended upon the Stage III Mom. She smiles (gently) at the exhaustion of Stage I or the exasperation of Stage II; she’d happily trade her grief for bloodshot eyes or gritted teeth.
The Stage III Mom misses the endless bickering. She misses being a short-order cook. She misses chauffeuring grumpy kids. She even misses long vacation car rides where she once turned to her husband and hissed, “Next time, you drive with them. I’m taking the plane.”
Then one day the clouds clear over her empty nest, the sun shines on a sparkling landscape, and we find the Stage III Mom trying to decide between a cruise to Greece or Alaska. She settles on Greece, where she can’t wait to see the ruins up close; stunning remains of an ancient culture. Beauty and life survive — even after the treasured architects of that world have moved on.
So what to get this mom? She’d love a card detailing what’s new with you — the good and the notso-hot. She’d love to hear that she’ll see you in December or maybe even New Year’s. Knowing when she’ll see you next is surefire balm for that small, but permanent, ache in her heart.
Don’t forget her on Mother’s Day.
Because she never forgets you every day.
For The Washington Post