The Mother’s Day Post (Or, How to Lose All your Facebook Friends in 960 words or less.)

What kind of mother/daughter/blogger would I be if I let Mother’s Day pass without a post, or even a mention of my mother, and all the mother’s who inspire and teach and helped make me the greatest mom ever? Or a shout out to my kids to show how much I love them and what they have already done for me in three and half short years? Well, I did. I let Mother’s Day pass without posting a single status update, picture, tweet about my beloveds. I sent nothing out into the great depths of the World Wide Web. And obviously now, I’m feeling guilty about it.

Mother’s Day, with all it’s “blessings” and “feeling grateful” and taking time for a Hallmark moment, has become like the Facebook birthday. (You know, when it’s one of your 500 friends’ birthday, you have to, you just HAVE TO take a minute to wish them a happy birthday. Would it kill you to just write “happy birthday”? It only takes, literally, a minute and if you don’t, all your other friends will notice and people will think of you as one of “those” kind of people – like The Grinch, a snob, Hitler or even worse, Gwyneth Paltrow — she’s the worst, isn’t she Internet?)

But this is my mother. My kids. Have I no heart?

What can I say that is different? Sure all of our memories of our mothers are different, but the end result is, apparently, the same. I know because I read about a bazzillion tributes that mentioned some, or all, of the following yesterday:

• Our moms taught (teach) us about love, compassion and understanding. Putting on make-up, dancing in the rain, laughing in the face of our tears/fears, seeing the best in others, what have you.
• They are selfless. (This in the job description but whatevs).
• They are fun and funny (We share the same genes so…).
• They are beautiful on the inside and out (We share the same genes so…).
• They made us the people we are today (and we’re pretty great so…).
• We celebrate them everyday (so we say).
• We all have the best mom in the world. (All I can think of is Will Ferrell, in Elf, trying “the best cup of coffee in the world” in a crappy diner.)

And then there are the cute cliches about:

• how kids make us better people. (How is that supposed to make people without kids — whether by choice or not — feel? Not cool, Internet.)
• how hard but rewarding motherhood is (and we don’t get paid!)
• the whole sham of Mother’s Day (Guess what new mothers? You don’t really get the day off!)
• the cute Mother’s Day “fails” of our young ones (like: Little Suzy brought me breakfast in bed only to spill the OJ all over my duvet! #morelaundryforme #happymothersday).

Man, I sound cynical. Sorry, that’s not how my mother raised me. It’s the Internet, that cruel, bullying, pop culture phenom.

It’s a good thing that we all love our mothers. And it’s nice to see so many people wanting to express their love for their mothers and children. And my cold, dead, cynical heart even read a few tributes that were so genuine, they made me tear up. And so, here I am.

It’s good to take a day to recognize those we love dearest. It’s important for our families to know how much we love and appreciate them. And someday, when I am snubbed by my kids on Mother’s Day, I will look back and wish I could burn this post. (Thanks again, Internet.)

Maybe I’m just mad I can’t find a unique way to express my feelings about my mother and children so why share the same old, same old? But the Internet, with it’s smug and manipulative ways, has shamed me again, into posting something anyway. I have a wonderful mother and children. Maybe even, dare I say, the “best in the world.” But there is no way to quantify or explain in words all they have done for me. And even if I could, I’m not sure I’d want to share it here, with all of you (no offense).

I guess, as I mentioned in my last post, I’m just raging against Social Media Syndrome. After reading post upon post about how great our mother’s and kids are, it just started to feel a bit “put on” — who could say the sweetest, funniest or most heartfelt thing. If I look back individually, I know this is not true. My friends, you are genuine and sweet. I actually like hearing and seeing how you spend your days which is why, despite my ranting, I continue to use social media.  But collectively, it (we?) becomes something else: The Internet. I can’t shake the competitive feeling of it. Is it just me?  I guess it’s just part of the weird world of social media, but it felt a little dirtier on Mother’s Day.

(Teachers: kind of like when the synergy of a class is a little “off.” You look at the class list and see that individually, the students are wonderful, kind, and polite. But together, the class of 25 becomes something different. Doesn’t make sense, but it happens.)

There, now that I’ve got that all out there and I’ve essentially called everyone on Facebook fake and competitive (stop! No, I didn’t! Re-read those last paragraphs!), I guess I’ll just go on blogging with no followers until next year when, much like my resignation to the obligatory Facebook birthday, I promise, on Mother’s Day, to simply update all my various social media accounts with some hollow sentence about the woman who raised me.  (Not that my Facebook birthday posts are hollow — at least not to you.)

So…Happy Mother’s Day, Mom!