Eddie Bauer Presents: Mother's Day!

Well it won't be long, now, before the roses, the slightly over-cooked/underdone/mostly spilled breakfasts in bed, the perfumes perfectly packaged (along with the free-gift-with-purchase tote bag), and the over-crowded brunches staffed by energetic young waiters and waitresses just praying for the day to end. That's right, it's Mother's Day 2011, but you didn't need me to tell you. The explosion of pastels in the greeting card section of the supermarket heralded the arrival of this most curious of holidays. Mother's Day conjures up images of Dear Old Mom in her rocker on the front porch of a Thomas Kinkade Victorian farmhouse, just waiting for her adoring kiddos and grandkiddos to come calling with flowers and boxes of chocolates.

If the world of marketing is to be believed, motherhood means white cotton eyelet sundresses, rivers of pink and green and marigold, brightly colored hats that would make a royal wedding attendee blush with embarrassment, and the ripples of laughter from golden-haired children locking hands with their cover-girl mom and dancing around barefoot in a circle in a thick carpet of green grass. If this is motherhood then sign me up!!

At my house, the sales catalogs started stacking up a few weeks ago and their images of motherhood are interesting, to say the least. In the upscale Garnet Hill, mom and daughter appear on a white, seamless backdrop attired in casual opulence - a knit dress just under $200 for mom, and on the daughter a pair of shoes that will cost you a bit more than something you'd find at Payless.

Eddie Bauer, though, prefers to tuck the kids out of camera shot, opting to locate mom on the Serengeti, as if she'd been whisked away on safari! At other times, she's on her sailboat or carrying her surfboard. Catalog mom is quite the adventurer! Now I know, and I'm sure Eddie Bauer knows, that if you're going to sell a pair of khakis to a mother of two, it's probably best to amp up the coolness factor. I also know that this cool mom does exist - I'm sure, for instance, that when serial mom Angelina Jolie takes a jog on the beach with her little ones that she does so appropriately attired, and in slow motion.

But, seriously, sometimes I wish there was a little more truth in advertising. So show me those cute capri pants, but show them with the paint stains from a freewheeling finger painting session with my 3-year-old. You want me to buy my sister a button-down tunic? Well could you show it to me in a color that camouflages the crusty red tomato sauce that ends up there after she pulls her toddler out of the pizza parlour high chair?? And while I know those adorable high heeled wedges would look ever so smart, will I be able to run in them while clutching a vomiting 5-year-old to the department store bathroom??

Look, I don't expect miracles, and after Sunday, the pastel parade of motherhood will end, and then it's on to charcoal grills, lawnmowers, and tool belts because, you guessed it, it'll be time for Father's Day! I'm just saying:)

Mother May I or The Eye of the Chinese Tiger Mother

So here's three words I'd never thought to put together - Chinese Tiger Mother. But it seems that Yale professor Amy Chua's memoir, Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother has really touched a nerve! Once more, motherhood is being dissected and the battle lines have formed hard and quickly. Everyone from the hosts of The View, to the hosts of The Talk (CBS' The View-lite) to NBC Nightly News are debating the finer points of Chua's book. While Chua herself has even said that this book wasn't intended as a hardass' guide to good parenting, message boards are chock-o-block with angry comments directed at the author. The more salacious highlights of the book are a list of things Chua didn't allow her two daughters to do:

1. Attend sleepovers
2. Have a playdate
3. Be in a school play
4. Watch TV or play video games
5. Get any grade lower than an A

I didn't grow up with a Chinese mother, but, looking at that list, I'm beginning to have my suspicions! I'll call my mom Dr. Hell No. Here is a short version of her "Hell No" how to:

1. Girl Scouts: Selling cookies door-to-door to strangers and camping outside where I can catch cold or be attacked? HELL NO.
2. Summer camp: Sleeping away from home for multiple nights with unsupervised boys trying to take advantage of her baby girl's virtue? HELL NO.
3. Car dates with boys:  Her baby girl with some pimple-faced teen aged Lothario? HELL NO.
4. Eating dinner at my friends' homes: You can never tell how dirty someone's kitchen is, and what about that leering teenage brother just waiting to take advantage of her baby girl's virtue?? HELL NO.
5. No telephone calls on school nights: As far as my mom was concerned, if I wanted to reach out and touch someone, as the old ad campaign went, then I could do it on the weekend. No exceptions! Since the only telephones in the house were located in her bedroom, in the kitchen, and in the family room, good luck sneaking in a few moments on Ma Bell. HELL NO.

Needless to say, I lived a sheltered life at home. I made excellent grades and never gave my mom any cause for concern. I also had a pretty awful social life, but I'm sure there's a texting teen in 2011 who thinks their dreadful social life is the fault of their parents. It's all relative, isn't it? And besides, for all that I was deprived of, I received a great gift in return - the gift of spin, the ability to locate that silver lining:

• No Girl Scouts meant that I didn't have to hawk boxes of cookies once a year and I had my after-school and weekends free!
• No summer camp meant a summer of kicking back, sans mosquito bites and un-air conditioned bunk-bed style living with a bunch of other girls and no private bathroom. Thanks Mom!!
• No car dates with boys?? Awesome, that saves me having to eat like a bird in front of some guy, and no dealing with the awkward kiss goodnight.
• No eating dinner at my friends' homes? Perfect! I really didn't want to miss "The Love Boat."
• No telephone calls on school nights?? Really?? Seriously, who am I talking to??

Hmm, it would seem that my attempts to spin this situation have failed. Gosh, my childhood kinda sucked. Maybe that's the whole moral of the story, that moms will always do the best that they can to raise healthy, happy, good children. Sometimes they'll fail, sometimes they'll soar, but the best moms will always keep trying, and the best children will love them for that.

I'm just saying:)