Ah Motherhood. The only job where, one minute, you feel like you’ve got it nailed, the next, you’re wondering how the hell you’re supposed to prepare these people for real life when you forget to make them breakfast. (This actually happened, much to my sons disgust, but don’t panic, he ate a perfectly healthy Nutella sandwich in the car and we weren’t even that late…..)
Most of the time I feel like I am winging it completely. Each day brings a new challenge that, I personally, think would be at home on The Crystal Maze. More so with my teenager but the 8 year old isn’t without his, shall we say, challenges.
We’re going through this journey as blind as each other. I mean, I’ve *been* a teenager, but, let me tell you, that’s a completely different side of the fence. I often wonder what goes through her head as she lays in bed for HOURS on end, posing in dog filters and screaming at her brother to GET OUT OF HER FACE.
Then I remember when I was her age, the last place I wanted to be was with my parents (urgh) and actually I could sleep for England. But I’m not going to tell her that! I’m sure she’s so glad she’s helping me prepare to parent child number two when he reaches teenager-dom. She’s like my practice child.
Erm, in a perfect parent way.
Motherhood isn’t easy. In any way shape or form. And so, despite spending my teenage years moaning about the fact that there wasn’t a “Happy Child’s Day” and no, the irony isn’t lost on me that my two now say that to me, with my response being same as my parents was, EVERY DAY IS CHILD’S DAY THANK YOU VERY MUCH, I’m going to enjoy celebrating Mother’s Day.
I’m not really in it for the presents, because I’m a lucky one and get presents all year round, from the bloke as well as the kids (they’re all very romantic beings) but I am VERY much looking forward to having a guilt free lie in.
I am going to revel in the fact that it’s practically law on Mother’s Day to stay in bed and have coffee bought to you. That I don’t need to get up and go downstairs to make lunches or (forgotten) breakfasts. There’s always something you could be doing on a weekend, heading to football, washing a weeks worth of clothing that has suddenly made it’s way into the washing basket from the teenagers room, walking a dog, food shopping, taxi-ing people around to social lives that make you sick, rather than lay in bed with your little family and feeling the love.
Like my teenager (and actually the boy is pretty into his sleep as well, I got lucky there) I love being in my bed. Fluffy pillows, pretty duvets, pink sheets (sorry T, they’ll always be pink) it’s my happy haven.
This year I’ve even been treated to some gorgeous new bedding from www.linenslimited.com – anyone who knows me, knows how much I love a new duvet cover. Usually T and I disagree on the colour of said duvet, he’s all for patterns and I’m more of a grey, cotton kind of girl, so I know he loves this set. Plus it pleases the plant loving part of me. If I could fill my house with giant green plants I’d be a very happy woman, unfortunately, I don’t have very green fingers (or much light in the house) so they don’t do very well here. Having it on a duvet, surely the best of both worlds. Maybe.
So, Sunday morning, if you’re looking for me, you’ll find me in bed, surrounded by my babes, drinking coffee and feeling the love. Then I’ll be sharing that love with my own Mum, who must have felt like she was winging it too, on many occasions. I seemed to turn out OK (this is not up for debate) so there’s hope for my two yet!
Happy Mother’s Day!