Before we start this post, I want to acknowledge how fraught Mother’s Day can be. My years of infertility were the hardest of my life for many reasons, most of all, because I was unable to muster happiness for friends who seemed to be effortlessly starting families of their own. I know what it’s like to close the blinds and turn off your phone that Sunday, and I encourage those of you who are in the shit to take this day for yourself, because the role of the mother is complex, for all of us. If I could buy a gift (and a martini) for every woman struggling to conceive next month, I would.
Now that I am a Mom twice over (proof that there’s hope for the hopeless!), the most valuable gift of all would be just a little time for myself. Of course, that is the hardest thing to come by. I want the gift of an entire day, from the moment I wake to the moment I go to sleep, to concern myself with my needs, and my needs alone. I don’t want my kids to bring me breakfast in bed (more for me to clean up). I want to make breakfast for myself, in silence, then read the paper while I chew my food to completion, and wash it down with a glass of water that is deliciously absent of toddler backwash. (Both my acupuncturist and my naturopath suggested I work on chewing my food to a “paste” in the last week, which made me acutely aware of how difficult that is to do while kids are spilling milk and barraging me with a battery of needs). I want to take an overpriced exercise class and dilly-dally returning home, where the only obligation that awaits me is something frivolous, like an underwear drawer that could benefit from organization.
That’s never going to happen, so instead, I am focusing on gifting, my favorite pastime. I try to send a care package every week; it’s a practice I take seriously. One of the things I miss the most about my Nana (R.I.P) was my ritual of buying presents for her when I traveled. I brought her gold leafed desserts from Bombay because she always told me about the Indian emerald dealer that visited her home in the 70s, offering sweets as ornate as jewelry (my grandpa was a pearl dealer, so “dealers” came and went). I bought her lace hankies in Italy, silver coasters in Bolivia, and hand painted chocolates — indulgences to let her know that no matter how far I roamed, she was never far from my thoughts.
In her absence, I pack boxes with fruit from my garden, preserved lemons, granola, and verbena tea, and ship them to NYC for friends languishing in the East Coast winter. I spend every free moment on my work trips abroad finding little treasures for my kids, be they olives or wooden marionettes. It fills me up.
But gifting isn’t everyone’s love language. Let me help you give a gift to the mother in your life this year, by sharing a list of my favorite things, with juicy discount codes for paid subscribers. (Love you!).
For extra inspo, I asked some of the chicest moms I know to share their wish lists and the best gifts they have given or received from times past. I was pleasantly surprised to find that many of them were buying gifts for themselves on Mother’s Day. I am going to take that as an invitation.
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