Mother’s Day has never really been the best of days for me. There’s so many reasons for that but that I’m not going into them in a public forum. Basically, it was tough as a child and it’s still tough as an adult.
There are little things that make it better though.
The sound of my little ones excited to share their treasures with me is obviously the most important one. Followed closely by the sound of my husband starting the coffee machine. There’s the timeless question of, “do I eat my breakfast first or do I open my presents?” There’s the question of pecking order with whose I open first. The toddler, always the toddler… That’s ok because I helped her buy hers anyway. She didn’t want to miss out on the Mother’s Day stall at school, and it’s good fundraising, so I was happy to oblige.
I scored quite well from my three this year. I love the combination of useful gifts from the school stall, with sentimental gifts made by the kids at school.
My toddler ‘chose’ my a serving tray with some love heart cookie cutters. My son chose a spoon rest, some measuring cups and a lunch bag. My eldest, who knows me so well and makes my heart sing, an adult colouring in book with my own pencils “with a different colour on each end!”
The school treasures were quite clever. A 3D drawing of my daughter’s hand; and a potted plant from my son along with a paper teapot and teabag that says, “you’re tea-riffic.”
Before long we meandered off to church for some
child-wrangling worship, some rebuking a sermon and more coffee always coffee coffee coffee fellowship. This is where I received my favourite gift, the same as last year. Lovingly bundled up by my darlings, some flowers from the personal garden of their loving Sunday school teachers. A tradition that’s been going on longer than I’ve been attending, let’s hope we never take them for granted. It takes a village to raise a child. Mine may not have the people that I’d like to have in it but I love the little village we do have.
Thank you for your kindness, as always.