What do Mums REALLY want for Mother’s Day?

If an alien landed on earth this week and consumed main stream media marketing, it would come away thinking that all us mums are obsessed with pink pyjamas, scented candles and gushy love heart vessels on which one is encouraged to drink a hot beverage from.

Where is the mug that says I AM REALLY PISSED OFF, or perhaps PLEASE DO NOT TALK TO ME. A notebook entitled CRAP I HAVE TO GET TO KEEP THIS FAMILY TICKING OVER of a pen that says IF YOU BORROW ME AND DO NOT RETURN ME, YOU WILL FIND ME PROTRUDING FROM YOUR NECK.

I don’t want a tube of cheap, Made in China Body Luxe Wild Strawberry Hand Lotion, which smells like cat vomit and has the same constancy as off yoghurt. I don’t want a cheap, Made in China plastic key ring with a cupcake on it, telling me that I am a SUPER MUM.

If I were such a super mum, don’t I deserve something a little more thoughtful? Like time and quiet.

In a perfect world, my own mother’s day would go down something like this.

I would wake of my own accord after 12 hours sleep. I would stretch out in bed, my body would be free of any aches or neck spasms, usually caused by sleeping awkwardly on my pillow. I would not need to wee like a racehorse.

When ready, I would ring a little bell next to my bed and my children would appear with two cups of coffee, a fresh chocolate croissant, my fully charged iPad and all of the papers. They would spend about 60 seconds heaping praise on me, before taking their leave, closing the door quietly behind them.

That is it. It is completely do-able and in reach of even within the most simpleton’s organizational realm, but I know… I just know that this is as likely to happen as much as, try and I might, as turning Ricky Martin straight.

And believe me, I would try very hard. Just give me a chance!

The truth is, I don’t need anything. For me it is about spoiling mums. The problem is, for me anyway; I would have to arrange it all.

Where did all this stress begin?

A lady named Anna Jarvis, who campaigned to have it recognized as a national holiday, first celebrated Mothers Day in 1908. She had lost her own mother a few years earlier and wanted everyone to recognize “the person who has done more for you than anyone in the world.” She later became exceedingly pissed off at the commercialization of the day she founded, and even went as far as trying to put a stop having the second Sunday in May connected with Mothers Day at all.

But big business had already embraced it. Hallmark and other card companies can expect a $671 million windfall, just on this one-day alone. Unrelated industries such as OfficeWorks try to convince us that Mums would like a new hard-drive, or perhaps a nice new office chair.

When the truth is much more simple. Mums want the dishwasher emptied, the house cleaned, dinner cooked, no kids fighting and no sex nagging. Silence. Quiet. Time to oneself. And we want it more than just one day a year.

The truth is Mother’s Day rarely looks like it does in the catalogues, where the mother is bought in breakfast in bed. I mean where in god’s name is the morning face? The grumpiness? The dodgy-as-buggery plastic key ring, which proclaims I LOVE YOU TO THE MOON AND BACK. And there is the husband? Out golfing?

Call me bitter. Call me cynical. I am just beside myself that my dream of croissants and calm are dashed for another year as I will be up, manning the BBQ at kids’ sports on Sunday. I even get to watch two games of rugby this year, HUZZAH!

Don’t be jealous. I am planning to have two sausage sizzles to celebrate.

And for all of you whose Mums are no longer with us, I hope you take some time out of your day to honour her memory. A mums hug lasts a long time after she has let go.

What does Mothers Day look like at your place?