Today is "Mother's Day" and, like all these sorts of Hallmark-Card-type holidays the importance is purely in the outlook of the individuals concerned.
My bride likes to be cosseted on Mother's Day.
The problem was that this weekend was ALSO the Boy's eleventh birthday party, so Saturday the house was utterly insane with adolescent-boy energy. Mojo had to do a lot of the birthday-partying because I indulged myself and went to our Portland Thorns match, where I was well-served for my faithlessness when the wenches from Seattle shocked us in the 89th minute and sent us all home disappointed.
So Sunday morning I got up and wrestled the kiddos into submission so the Bride could sleep until ten. Then the urchins and I went out to "Presents of Mind" down on Hawthorne and got her some sweet (or funny) cards, a bar of fancy soap, and a vanilla-scented car air freshener (don't ask, the Boy's idea...). And came home and gave her the treats, and hugs, and then she got a foot massage...
...and went back to sleep.
Finally I made her a chorizo-and-mushroom omlette and went out to mow the lawn and help the Boy out back to assemble his soccer kick-back net.
And that was this year's Mother's Day.
Frankly, I think the whole "Mother's Day" macguffin is just a ridiculous commercial gimmick to sell more crap. But I love my Bride dearly, and she is as much Mother now as she was Lover when we met, she is utterly crucial to our children's lives - both for her gentle love and her fierce expectations - and since our children are now a central part of our lives together regardless of the silly "holiday", for her, and for me, every day is a mother's day.