Sure, give me a card, but there’s only one person I’m thinking about on Mother’s Day, and it’s not myself.
As Mother’s Day approaches, I don’t think about what I want to do that day. I don’t start imagining a day of indulgence, breakfast in bed or even special events with my children. For me, Mother’s Day is all about my mum. All I care about is what she wants to do. Anything else doesn’t interest me.
Apparently, this is wrong.
Mother’s Day has always been about my mum for me. I love being a mum but I don’t feel any need to be worshipped and adored on the second Sunday in May because I feel worshiped and adored every single day. My children are my everything and I have an amazing life that allows me to completely and thoroughly enjoy every single second of being a mum.
For my mum, it wasn’t like this.
Mum had it tough. She really struggled when we were little. She didn't have any friends or relatives who could help her with her four children and my dad worked incredibly long hours. She also worked. Whenever I picture her when I was a child, I remember her always being busy doing things. She powerwalked everywhere and we'd trot behind her trying to keep up.
She'd rush through the grocery shopping, unpack it all when we got home, stop to hand us sandwiches as she unpacked, fold some laundry, get dinner started and bake all our favourite treats. I remember talking to her back a lot. I'd have conversations with her while she cooked, while she cleaned, while she hung up laundry, while she drove us to school, while she was busy doing a million things.