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Annual Tears, Jeers, & Grumbles Mother Day Thread
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<blockquote data-quote="Marguerite" data-source="post: 357091" data-attributes="member: 1991"><p>I'm with hearts&roses. Mothers Day for me has become what I make of it. No expectations - if a kid has to be reminded it's Mothers Day, then any "Happy Mothers Day!" texted from them is meaningless. Although I suspect that is what happened last year - it was the first time EVER, that all the kids remembered to wish me a happy Mothers Day. OK, two of them texted it and that was all I heard form them. But hey, they remembered.</p><p></p><p>I learned to hate Mothers Day when the kids were in the local primary school (primary roughly = elementary). The school used Mothers Day (and also Fathers Day) as a fundraiser. We were supposed to send in a gift valued at about $5, pre-wrapped, about a week before. Then on the Thursday before, we had to send in money with our child. So first we had to buy a gift, then we had to send in more money so our kid could buy something form the pile of contributions. We pay twice, out of our own pocket, for something the child is supposed to think of himself.</p><p> I hated it in every way and tried to opt out.</p><p>I even sent notes telling them formally that I did not want my child to participate. difficult child 3 was fairly oblivious anyway, so the argument the school used on me ("We didn't want him to feel left out") was spurious. He really wouldn't have cared, he only knew about it because they hammered at him about it. I got a note home telling me that someone in the school office had generously loaned difficult child 3 the money to buy my Mothers Day present, and could I please pay her back at the first opportunity? I was cranky because I had warned them; but the person who had lent difficult child 3 the money was not the person I had told in my note and I felt it wrong to punish the innocent office lady for the SNAFU. I did make a loud enough noise though, to make it clear that if the school wanted a donation from me, I would give it. But I did NOT want my child being pushed into buying something for me because people always took advantage of his naivety and got him to buy the rubbish nobody else wanted (and that should not have been put on sale).</p><p></p><p>I really was cranky - this exploitation of my boys had begun with difficult child 1, he came home a few times with something atrocious and often forgot he'd even bought anything. I would find a crumpled card months later, turned to papier mache in his bag, with a crumbled bath bomb staining the lining.</p><p></p><p>The crud I got via this system - I got really, really cheap mass-produced bath bombs which I had already discovered in a store as being unfit for the purpose. They were available for $1 each (so much for the "$5 value, please" insistence by the organisers - they would often break up a gift purchased for $5 to wring every cent from the kids who really did not know any better) and stained the bathtub badly. </p><p>I think the absolute worst gift I got this way via difficult child 3 was about a dozen lipsticks, all marked "sample only - not for re-sale", some of which had been used, all of which were the same revolting orange-red and all of which smelt rancid because the oils used to make the lipsticks were rancid. They should never have been presented for sale to the kids (or to anyone).</p><p>I was really cranky, because difficult child 3 really had no clue and shouldn't have been exploited this way. I would hear from the other mothers what they got so I knew that most of the 'gifts' were not too bad; some person in officialdom was clearly taking advantage of difficult child 3's inability to discriminate, his honesty and openness and his vulnerability. </p><p>Trying to keep my kid out of it just wasn't possible apparently - the gifts were all wrapped in clear cellophane and lined up on tables in the school hall. Each class in turn was taken out of the classroom and walked to the hall with their teacher, so each child could select a gift and pay for it. ALL kids participated, there was no room for kids whose parents had forgotten or who had tried to exempt themselves. To try to duck out of this was considered disloyal to the school.</p><p></p><p>After the bath bomb I complained and sent in the note the following year. That was the year I got the lipsticks. </p><p></p><p>So I joined the P&C that was organising this (equivalent to PTA) and took them on with this issue. When they tried to organise it the following year, I made a very loud fuss and said that I did not appreciate my disabled child's repeated exploitation by the P&C in order to raise money, and if my child came home yet again with ANYTHING (especially crud) I would be taking my complaints further. of course they looked at me like I had two heads, but since I had more popular and effective alternatives to raise money which I had shared with them, they gave way on this and made the trek from the classroom optional - but only for difficult child 3.</p><p></p><p>I still get cranky when I think of the exploitation, year after year, with difficult child 3 being used as a means to sell off the overpriced unsellable rubbish disguised as a Mothers Day present. Honestly, I would have been happier with someone's plastic baggie of dog droppings. At least that would have been honest. And smelled better.</p><p></p><p>So for me, Mothers Day has never been about gifts. Never. What you're supposed to do as a kid on Mothers Day is appreciate your mother in practical ways. And my mother always said, "Every day should be Mothers Day." So for me, every day I was expected to get my mother a cup of tea if she asked me to. Breakfast in bed for my mother was difficult as she was generally up before anyone else. Getting my father's breakfast on Mothers Day took one chore away form my mother, so that was one task I could do.</p><p></p><p>In my case - again, I don't want breakfast in bed. I did get it a few times though. But then - there have been years when nobody noticed. Also birthdays when only husband seemed to notice.</p><p></p><p>So now - my expectations are zero. So anything I get, any recognition or acknowledgement, is a bonus.</p><p></p><p>This year, husband, mother in law & I are going to see "Calendar Girls" on stage in Sydney. We're not taking difficult child 3 with us, we figured naked old ladies on stage would probably put him off stage shows for life!</p><p></p><p>Marg</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Marguerite, post: 357091, member: 1991"] I'm with hearts&roses. Mothers Day for me has become what I make of it. No expectations - if a kid has to be reminded it's Mothers Day, then any "Happy Mothers Day!" texted from them is meaningless. Although I suspect that is what happened last year - it was the first time EVER, that all the kids remembered to wish me a happy Mothers Day. OK, two of them texted it and that was all I heard form them. But hey, they remembered. I learned to hate Mothers Day when the kids were in the local primary school (primary roughly = elementary). The school used Mothers Day (and also Fathers Day) as a fundraiser. We were supposed to send in a gift valued at about $5, pre-wrapped, about a week before. Then on the Thursday before, we had to send in money with our child. So first we had to buy a gift, then we had to send in more money so our kid could buy something form the pile of contributions. We pay twice, out of our own pocket, for something the child is supposed to think of himself. I hated it in every way and tried to opt out. I even sent notes telling them formally that I did not want my child to participate. difficult child 3 was fairly oblivious anyway, so the argument the school used on me ("We didn't want him to feel left out") was spurious. He really wouldn't have cared, he only knew about it because they hammered at him about it. I got a note home telling me that someone in the school office had generously loaned difficult child 3 the money to buy my Mothers Day present, and could I please pay her back at the first opportunity? I was cranky because I had warned them; but the person who had lent difficult child 3 the money was not the person I had told in my note and I felt it wrong to punish the innocent office lady for the SNAFU. I did make a loud enough noise though, to make it clear that if the school wanted a donation from me, I would give it. But I did NOT want my child being pushed into buying something for me because people always took advantage of his naivety and got him to buy the rubbish nobody else wanted (and that should not have been put on sale). I really was cranky - this exploitation of my boys had begun with difficult child 1, he came home a few times with something atrocious and often forgot he'd even bought anything. I would find a crumpled card months later, turned to papier mache in his bag, with a crumbled bath bomb staining the lining. The crud I got via this system - I got really, really cheap mass-produced bath bombs which I had already discovered in a store as being unfit for the purpose. They were available for $1 each (so much for the "$5 value, please" insistence by the organisers - they would often break up a gift purchased for $5 to wring every cent from the kids who really did not know any better) and stained the bathtub badly. I think the absolute worst gift I got this way via difficult child 3 was about a dozen lipsticks, all marked "sample only - not for re-sale", some of which had been used, all of which were the same revolting orange-red and all of which smelt rancid because the oils used to make the lipsticks were rancid. They should never have been presented for sale to the kids (or to anyone). I was really cranky, because difficult child 3 really had no clue and shouldn't have been exploited this way. I would hear from the other mothers what they got so I knew that most of the 'gifts' were not too bad; some person in officialdom was clearly taking advantage of difficult child 3's inability to discriminate, his honesty and openness and his vulnerability. Trying to keep my kid out of it just wasn't possible apparently - the gifts were all wrapped in clear cellophane and lined up on tables in the school hall. Each class in turn was taken out of the classroom and walked to the hall with their teacher, so each child could select a gift and pay for it. ALL kids participated, there was no room for kids whose parents had forgotten or who had tried to exempt themselves. To try to duck out of this was considered disloyal to the school. After the bath bomb I complained and sent in the note the following year. That was the year I got the lipsticks. So I joined the P&C that was organising this (equivalent to PTA) and took them on with this issue. When they tried to organise it the following year, I made a very loud fuss and said that I did not appreciate my disabled child's repeated exploitation by the P&C in order to raise money, and if my child came home yet again with ANYTHING (especially crud) I would be taking my complaints further. of course they looked at me like I had two heads, but since I had more popular and effective alternatives to raise money which I had shared with them, they gave way on this and made the trek from the classroom optional - but only for difficult child 3. I still get cranky when I think of the exploitation, year after year, with difficult child 3 being used as a means to sell off the overpriced unsellable rubbish disguised as a Mothers Day present. Honestly, I would have been happier with someone's plastic baggie of dog droppings. At least that would have been honest. And smelled better. So for me, Mothers Day has never been about gifts. Never. What you're supposed to do as a kid on Mothers Day is appreciate your mother in practical ways. And my mother always said, "Every day should be Mothers Day." So for me, every day I was expected to get my mother a cup of tea if she asked me to. Breakfast in bed for my mother was difficult as she was generally up before anyone else. Getting my father's breakfast on Mothers Day took one chore away form my mother, so that was one task I could do. In my case - again, I don't want breakfast in bed. I did get it a few times though. But then - there have been years when nobody noticed. Also birthdays when only husband seemed to notice. So now - my expectations are zero. So anything I get, any recognition or acknowledgement, is a bonus. This year, husband, mother in law & I are going to see "Calendar Girls" on stage in Sydney. We're not taking difficult child 3 with us, we figured naked old ladies on stage would probably put him off stage shows for life! Marg [/QUOTE]
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