Fuck Mother's Day

It's my Super Bowl and you're invited!

It’s the Friday before Mother’s Day, which means it’s time for the second annual Fuck Mother’s Day post here at In Pursuit, a special event which the folks at In Pursuit [read: me and only me] look forward to all year long! Here’s the inaugural edition ICYMI.

Mother’s Day was founded by Anna Jarvis in 1908 as a way to honor the sacrifices made by mothers and more specifically, to pay tribute to her own mother, a community organizer and activist named Ann Jarvis. Anna argued that there were countless holidays celebrating the achievements of men, and there really ought to be at least one dedicated to women. Reasonable!

Except you’re forgetting we live in the United States, so obviously this relatively earnest and wholesome attempt to shine a light on the indispensability of women’s work was almost immediately turned into a capitalist, consumerist feeding frenzy. You can read more about this uniquely American tale here, but this excerpt is honestly pure poetry.

Seeking to regain control of the holiday she founded, Jarvis began openly campaigning against those who profited from Mother’s Day, including confectioners, florists and other retailers. She launched numerous lawsuits against groups using the name Mother’s Day, and eventually spent much of her sizable inheritance on legal fees.

Wonderful!

Poor Anna would likely be rolling in her grave if she knew that consumer spending this Mother’s Day will hover around $30 billion (billion with a B). Here in the United States, we won’t honor mothers’ labor by providing affordable, accessible childcare; federal paid family leave; comprehensive, non-racist, weight-inclusive maternal healthcare; bodily autonomy; equal opportunities in the workplace; freedom from systemic racism; or the peace of mind to assume their children won’t be shot during a lesson about fractions; but goddammit we’ll band together once a year to make sure mama gets a $150 cooler purse for “the woman who can carry it all.” And if she can’t carry “it all?” Sorry sweetie! You’re a mom in America, so you’re shit out of luck.

Happy Mother’s Day! Congratulations for doing the “hardest job in the world” and doing it without any cultural respect, remuneration, or systemic support, none of which you should need if you’re a good mom, because you got this mama!

And now, without further ado, let’s incinerate some ads, shall we?

Happy Mother’s Day! Here’s a “calorie controlled” RESET! Love, Diet Culture. You might have created a human being and thus achieved magic, but let’s keep all evidence of that out of sight, yeah?

Speaking of your body (which we value only so much as it provides free labor and conforms to racist and fat-phobic beauty ideals), since you’re a Busy Mom™ and you’re legally prohibited from wanting to, oh I don’t know, exercise by your-fucking-self, why not become a PELOMOM (no!!!!!!) and enjoy a workout complete with bonding [whining] and cheer [snack requests].

You know what makes me feel special as a mom? Knowing that the tennis bracelet I got for Mother’s Day is making Macy’s a lot of money.

MOMS DESERVE LASERS LIKE THEY DESERVE GOING BACK TO WORK WHILE STILL BLEEDING FROM CHILDBIRTH.

Not to rush you, but we’d like your money.

For the mama whose identity and personhood haven’t been adequately subsumed by her role as a mother.

Feeling systemically betrayed as a mom? Forget about advocacy and activism. CONNECT WITH YOURSELF via a foot soak et al instead. ALL FOR $245!!!!

Finishing touches to what? My successful metamorphosis into Mommy Barbie?

A brand (?) called “Light in the Box” thinks I’m a “special her!”

And this is the shit they’re trying to sell me! SPECIAL INDEED, LIGHT IN THE BOX, SPECIAL INDEED!

Fuck off.

You know what would be even better than a “high desert clay” colored cooler purse? Asking “Mom” what her name is and not forcing her to carry so fucking much.