Happy Mother’s Day, Mommy

Many have argued about whether it’s the parents or the single people who have had it worst during this most recent pandemic, but I think it’s very hard to argue that mothers have had it particularly good as the world has fallen apart, and so it merits a little holiday for them, in particular, and this second Mother’s Day of COVID-19 feels both more relaxed than last year and just well-deserved overall. Kudos to moms.

As a small sample of motherhood, let me highlight the work of Laurea de Ocampo, the mother of our esteemed publisher. She has owned most of the direct relationship with Kina’s school in this, the weirdest year of school. She has managed post-school mornings with Kina, sketching butterfly wings and making colorful potions as a demonstration of fluid dynamics. She has made lunch. She has wiped butts. She has managed to scramble together more work than any live event strategist probably could have expected to, and she then executed on it with admirable grace and skill—in one case, for thirty-five straight days. She has, throughout, remained patient and determined, and in reward for that determination, she has just enjoyed a full week with Lala and Kina. She has kept me (mostly) centered and patient, too, and I am certain that if I had been one of those aforementioned single people, I would not have done well at all this year.

She is a force of nature, Kina’s mother.

But, of course, I knew this. She has been this person since long before Kina was around, and it just didn’t make sense to celebrate her on Mother’s Day prematurely. This is largely because I don’t think Laurea really saw herself for a long time as a potential mother, and I get it—a mother? In this economy? Take this last year alone: Almost a million mothers left the workforce last year, and 90% of unpartnered mothers left the labor market. Among mothers with partners, 66% said they were primarily responsible for child care in the home (and just 24% of men made that claim.) The odds are not in favor of people who give birth, as it relates to careers, and Laurea likes her career. She deserves her career. It seems evident that people should be able to have given birth and also have a job if they want to; this is not the kind of right that makes sense to abrogate. Men, I guess, will always find a way.

Last night, we were talking about how Laurea used to watch me hold babies while she recoiled in horror. “Here, hold her,” I’d offer, and Laurea would shake her head violently from side to side, as if doing so would make the child vanish. I always figured I’d be a dad, but I didn’t have a whole lot of evidence to suggest that my career would suffer as a result, and so I could afford a little admiration of my friends’ babies in the meantime. Laurea’s very fond of babies now, I should note, but we’ve been very lucky to be able to balance Kina’s care in a way that ensures Laurea can keep pushing her career forward. Most cannot do that, and that is how you get four times as many women as men leaving the workforce when the shit hits the fan. In hindsight, we reflected on how Laurea’s fear of small people was actually a fear of the loss of control that babies force upon you—in some ways inevitably, in others avoidably. It’s unfortunate that motherhood, in that way, feels like such a momentous and irrevocable decision. It doesn’t have to be that way.

I recall every moment of Laurea becoming a mother—in the biological sense. It contributes strongly to my wide-eyed admiration of her. She worked her ass off for this kid, and she still works her ass off for her every single day. I think a lot about how Mother’s Day shouldn’t be a day of gratitude for unjustly imbalanced parenting duties, and I’m reading back on this whole thing now and wondering if what I’m doing here is glorifying the unhealthy hustle that contemporary America has foisted upon us—and upon mothers, in particular. Laurea, and all mothers, deserve an award for just being good parents. They are not supposed to be superhuman; they’re just human, and I’m grateful to Laurea for her being the human she is. What I hope we can fight for is a world in which the road we ask her to walk—alongside the million moms who left their jobs, and alongside all those who are struggling to balance survival and employment and sustenance of their families—to be level and straight. Becoming a mom is hard enough work; I’ve seen it. Our society should make it possible to choose that hard path without putting their livelihood and health at risk.

The good news here is that Laurea’s livelihood and health are both in fine form—and let’s toast to that. She is funny and demanding and kind, which Kina has inherited from her. She wears great glasses and has good taste in tea. She does great work, and it’s really hard. She is an amazing partner. She is an astonishing mother. I thank her every day for that.

To all of you who are mothers, thank you. To my own mom, THANK YOU. To Lala, thank you for raising this beautiful woman. To those of you who’ve lost your mothers, or for whom the concept of motherhood is either difficult or distant, I send my heartfelt love and hope that the bits in today’s edition about either lasagna or cocoons were amusing enough distractions. For all of you, I will now share this bonus photo of Kina and her mother, whom I love very much.

Today’s Parade is mostly Laurea’s work—a portrait of the extremely nice flowers I got for her yesterday, in their fancy glass vase. Kina helped with the leaves and later got really upset that Laurea wasn’t leaving them all bright green. Sharp eyes will note that the same flowers appear in the main illustration of today’s top headline. Laurea’s version is much better.

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