On Mother's Day (And It's a Boy)

I was in an airplane for most of Mother's Day. I left the house about 8 am to catch a 10 am flight, Frankfurt to DC. So I didn't have time to do much other than say, "Happy Mother's Day," before I left and by the time I was settled in at the hotel on the other end, Katie was asleep.

Please indulge me in some potentially uncomfortable honesty: Mother's Day is hard for me. While I have often owned Valentine's, anniversaries, and birthdays, I have historically not been that great about Mother's Day. Valentine's Day is easy because almost any effort exceeds expectations, so there is opportunity with limited risk. The anniversary carries expectation, but the terms of the deal are unambiguous. I deliver a gift cleverly related to some ancient tradition about linens, crystal, semi-precious stones, and so forth. The birthday is similarly straight forward. Throw a party. Buy a gift. It's easy.

But Mother's Day. Oh, Mother's Day. Part of my problem is that I have, in the past, disagreed with the premise of the day. I figured, if I haven't been showing her my gratitude the rest of the year, this one day isn't going to make it better; on the other hand, if I have been showing her my gratitude, why does she even need this day? Men, such thinking is a perilous trap.

My plan next year is to send Katie away for the weekend so we can wish her happy Mother's Day via Skype, and then she can watch Jane Austen movies and drink Diet Coke.

Meanwhile, we found out about 12 hours ago that number 4 is a boy. So awesome.

Thus, turning serious, Katie will again give of her body to deliver miraculous life into this world. She will be glorious mother. My perception of it is different this time. Somehow, with the first three, I was not awestruck. This time, I cannot help but perceive her as a goddess, a mighty creator. She deserves a golden scepter and a crown of diamonds. I can provide a minivan and 1,800 square feet.

I am humbled and inspired. Here I am married to this regal creator of life, this bringer of jollity. So how can I insult her by being other than noble myself? Which means I have work to do.