Unlike Athena in Greek mythology and Sin in Milton's Paradise Lost, both of whom popped out of their father's foreheads in a moment of intense mental conception, and Eve, born of Adam's rib through direct divine intervention, most of us were born in the customary fashion, involving a prolonged stay inside the uterus of the woman who nourished us until we came into the world and who loved us, praised us, taught us, and worried about us thereafter. As soon as we become old enough to become conscious of our debt, we are taught to remember our mothers, especially on the day of the calendar devoted to rememberimg them and, whenever possible, to make a concrete sign of our appreciation for all that they have done for us. Normally this involves a gift, often flowers, a family outing, whenever possible, and a meal, hopefully at a restaurant so that the kids don't make a mess for Mom to clean up the next day. (I generalize from my own middle-class experience and my memories of trying to forget the meals that I attempted to cook and the messes I attempted to clean up after watching my mother gamely try to swallow some badly-executed attempt to transform a wish into a fact.) But since flowers quickly die and need to be thrown into the trash and since Americans are suffering an epidemic of obesity, we hereby offer some alternate thoughts for celebrating our annual tribute to our mothers. The 19 works below begin with four 15-color lithographs (at a special sale price for Mother's Day purchases each year) made by Maurice de Vlaminck, one of the original Fauves, in collaboration with Charles Sorlier, Marc Chagall's customary master-printer, three original lithographs by Marc Chagall, and two dry-points by Mary Cassatt, perhaps the most cherished creator of images of children among the Impressionists. For those whose gift preferences run to jewelry, we suggest lithographs by Magritte and Miró. We then skip back in time to a late 16th-century vision of the creation of the first mother, the motherless Eve, followed by a late 16th-century drawing showing the more customary birth of the Virgin Mary, a woodcut by Albrecht Dürer and a late 16th-century Flemish engraving each showing the Annunciation, followed by three engravings by other artists after Durer's engravings that show the Virgin and her child, and concluding with another mother, Venus, the goddess of love, dealing with her unruly child, Cupid, who seems to have just suffered the indignity of having a tv show about "his" 20th-century exploits pulled for yet another cops and crooks show.