Motherwhelm and the Christmas season

Or how 'Home Alone' is actually a load of crap

‘Home Alone,’ has come in for a fair amount of criticism in the past (rightfully so) because of it’s complete lack of diversity in terms of casting, and the way it showcases a certain kind of white privilege that is ludicrous once you start noticing it.

What’s interesting alongside this is the way motherhood is depicted. It brings to life why even years later, many mothers are burnt out and fed up, as society pushes them to prepare the perfect Christmas for their family whilst simultaneously holding down a job, looking glossy and attending PSA events (oh and maybe volunteering too!)

We all know the score but just in case you haven’t seen it in a while…we see Kevin’s mum, Kate (played brilliantly by Catherine O'Hara) on the plane with her family and slowly realising that something isn’t right. She’s uneasy. She has that mother’s intuition thing which means that she knows everything about her kids before even they do. Her husband carries on unworried, with no such fears until the pivotal moment when Kate realises they’ve left Kevin at home. What’s interesting is that when I watched this as a kid I never thought it was odd that it was only Kevin’s mum who a) was emotionally broken by the fact she’d forgotten him b) also took it upon herself to complete an epic journey back home again - including two flights, and one arduous bus journey whilst her husband (and rest of the family) continued on their way to Paris. Her husband didn’t raise his hands to his face and scream- I AM A BAD FATHER! He didn’t get any pity. If anything he seemed bemused BECAUSE it was the mum’s fault you see!

This movie is one of many that spells out that it is mothers who must suffer at Christmas time. They must always stay one step ahead so that their kids have the best time imaginable. They must ensure that their kids see the panto/show/overpriced piece of bullshit everyone is talking about, have a tree that doesn’t shed it’s needles in the first ten minutes and they must also ensure that all presents are ordered and wrapped ready so their kids dressed in matching pyjamas can open them with glee.

When I see Mums on the school run at this time of year, they are gritting their teeth as they shout - ‘Yeah I’m good!’, or ‘Soon it will be finished thank God!’ or ‘I’ll get through it ha ha!’ I went to a yoga class this week (a relaxing kind that requires not much movement) and when I opened one eye I saw the exhausted expression of another mum. She had fallen asleep. In this moment nothing was being demanded of her. In this moment she was allowed to lie on the floor and not think about pies, packing, presents.

This makes me angry. The fact that mothers are cast out into the cold at Christmas. That they are the providers of the happiness but rarely the ones getting what they deserve.

In my alternative version of ‘Home Alone,’ Kate turns to her husband on the plane and she says - ‘Hey you fucking jerk! It’s your responsibility to check we have all our kids with us. Why don’t you fly back to that enormous house that nobody can relate to, and check on Kevin instead? I’ll continue with this bunch of over-privileged, cultural stereotypes, and book myself into a nice Paris hotel and chow down some quail eggs! I might catch Magic Mike and then I’ll fly back okay?’

Or maybe Kate experiences a complete mental flip out, hijacks the plane, forces entry into the cockpit, and forces the pilot to fly to the Bahamas where she checks the rest of the ungrateful family into an all-inclusive family holiday, gets her husband to fetch Kevin, whilst she lies in an infinity pool on a ‘couples only’ resort a few miles away.

Or Kate stands up and announces - ‘Down with the wretched capitalism! Down with patriarchy! Do any of you queens want to come with me to a commune and we can forget about turkey and eat takeaway - maybe watch The Handmaid’s Tale whilst we knit giant comfort blankets for ourselves for when the world finally ends?’

The point is that women do not have unlimited resource. They crash and burn. They cannot do all the things. This is why they fall asleep the moment they lie down. Or why they cry when George Michael comes on the radio again. Or lose their temper because the loo roll hasn’t been replaced. They do not want to get on the plane and fly home and be the one who sacrifices everything whilst grinning like a drugged out fool.

So this Christmas - do something revolutionary. Delegate. Do not give in to tyranny of matching pyjamas or the idea that it is your responsibility to provide perfection this season.

Be in your body. Lie down. Exist for you and nobody else.