CARATS FOR PATIENCE

Some women say, “For Mother’s Day, just get me a card.” I’m not one of them. I’m a materialistic feminist. That is to say, I believe in equal rights for everyone, I just want to look good marching for them. Last week was my first Mother’s Day. Ever since I delivered an 8 lb human through my privates, I’ve anticipated this day knowing now it’s my husband’s turn to deliver. In my mind Mother’s Day is like Christmas for breeders.

So when I see a beautifully wrapped box in the living room, my heart skips a beat. Sure my kid is supposedly my gift but he poops and spits up far more often than say… a pair of earrings or a tennis bracelet. But when my husband proudly tells me that gift is for our nanny, “It’s a gorgeous photo of her and the kid. I thought you’d really like that I did that for her” and then goes back to his morning mission of watching TBS’ James Bond marathon, I get a sense of how my day will go.

Wait. There’s another wrapped box, but this one is for my Mom who’s visiting. My husband made her a delicious photo book of our son and me. He says he thought I’d really appreciate that. I do, but not like I’d appreciate something say…for ME!

The rest of the day passes in one depressing blur. Having made no Brunch reservations, we end up eating at a Deli that has been there since 1920; so have the patrons. It looks like the casting call for “Cocoon.” I’m spending Mother’s Day Brunch at Death’s Door Deli where the daily special is a pastrami sandwich and an oxygen tank.

Noticing my silence, my husband asks repeatedly what’s wrong. I try to hold it, but I can only endure so much torture that doesn’t involve wax. So like a tidal wave of Tourettes, I tell him how disappointed I am. “It’s my first Mother’s Day and you didn’t do shit”, I say. I recap the day and how he didn’t deliver. After listening, he’s quiet, then finally says, “Hey, it’s my first Mother’s Day, too. I’m not a mind reader you know. I asked you 5 times where you wanted to go on Mother’s Day, you said you didn’t care.” You should know that my husband did not grow up Mennonite nor on a cave tour of Afghanistan. At some point, he must have learned to speak Girl. “I don’t care” unequivocally means “I really care.” We spend the rest of the day in silence because I don’t speak Asshole.

I had never really understood Mother’s Day until the day applied to me. It always seemed to me a silly holiday where families parade Mom and Grandma to a mediocre brunch, giving them gifts like stick-pins and teal blue silk scarves. But now that I’m a Mom, I get it. When you’re a Mom, you need your day and not just one day, Mom should get more. If Father’s Day is a whole day, Mother’s Day should be a season, maybe even a decade. Yet with my husband at the helm, I don’t even get my day.

Being a Mom, while rewarding, can be tough on your psyche. There’s nothing like stitches in your vagenius, a breast pump, and nipple shields to make you feel anything but special. Sure you can get back into your pre-baby jeans, but you can’t get back to your pre-baby life. And while the joys of having a kid outweigh it all, there’s nothing wrong with a little effort to remind a Mom that she’s not just the salad bar for the baby, she’s her own person too. But the truth is, while Mom’s need the occasional celebration to remind us we’re not just wombs with legs, Dads need us to point them in the right direction. They need us to teach them how to speak Girl.

After putting one baby to bed, making 3 grown ups dinner, and puréeing the whole of Whole Foods for one hungry baby’s week, I crawl into bed where I find a gift. It’s a delicious photo of my son and I and a well crafted photo book of he and I. Sure, I got the same Mother’s Day gift as my Mom and my nanny, but at least I got something all my own.

When my husband and I were dating, we didn’t get engaged for 4 ½ years. But when we did, he gave me an amazing engagement ring. We joked that I’d earned it by hanging in there so long with him. “Carats for patience” we’d say. My second Mother’s Day is only 360 days away. Now that I speak Husband, I know that I’ll be rewarded as long as I’m patient.