Last night a friend disclaimed to me that Mothering Sunday was merely a fabrication of the marketing industry, a ploy to get us to spend our pennies on pointless fluff. I should not expect a card, or any special treatment, heaven forbid a day off.
Well, I won't get a day off and don't particularly want one just because it's Mothering Sunday. And having missed my husband's first Father's Day last year (mitigating circumstances I can claim were that I'd only given birth six days before and hadn't quite managed to leave the house yet to buy a card...) I wasn't expecting much in the way of razzmatazz.
I was, then, delighted to find my baby crawling across the bed to me first thing this morning clasping a homemade card in his damp little fist. It was all that was needed to put a big smile on my face throughout the day. No flowers, no chocolates, no need.
I thought again about what my friend had said (albeit from the far side of several post rugby match celebration pints) and decided that he was wrong in two ways. Mothering Sunday (as opposed to Mother's Day) does have a much longer history than the 20th century obsession with celebration cards and is probably rooted in the seventeenth century when workers and apprentices were given a day off to see their mothers. For many this would have been a rare and therefore much valued day.
But the other reason is that why not have a day celebrating motherhood? It doesn't have to be all expensive gifts and duty lunches. In fact far better to ditch the mass produced tat and just show some genuine appreciation of the woman who brought you into this world. We don't need much, just a little scribbled card and a big goofy smile will probably do just fine.
Perversely, of course, I have a big dislike of Valentine's Day and all that it stands for...