Tribute to Mother's Day

Ah... the glorious marketing hell that is our tribute to Mothers Day. Never on the same day, but with advertising starting when Valentine displays are being removed, it's pretty tough to miss. 



I remember sneaking into the garden as a child to cut flowers for my mums breakfast in bed tray. I remember the squabbling about who was carrying the tea or the toast. I also remember being annoyed that my mum didn't stay in bed cheerfully chatting to us like in the television adverts. 

Growing older I remember the glee of stashing pocket money to buy chocolates or some beautiful ornament that never made it into the living room or kitchen. The arguments subsided as my mum enjoyed a long lie to awaken to our competing presents. 

Now I frantically pick what I hope she'll like, knowing that she will re-gift anything unsuitable to a charity shop or raffle, or even another sibling. She has the day to enjoy as she chooses. 

On the other hand I'm a mum to three now, and Mothers Day is expected to have significance to me. I know I'm a mum, after 12 years it would be hard to miss, but it feels really strange. Mothers Day had decades of being all about my mum, and now I'm meant to step up and take center stage? 

I've passed the years of being kissed awake at 5 am with pasta shell jewellery. I've done the tea made with cold water because they're not allowed to touch the kettle. I've even tried smiling while they all jump on the bed, scattering burnt toast crumbs all over the sheets.

Growing older they gleefully spend pocket money on over priced magazines with cheap tat stapled to the front and sweets to share with their friends. I smile when handed a hideous ornament destined for the bin, panic bought from the charity shop when they realise which Sunday it is. 

This year, like the past couple, the big day has floated by unnoticed, only frantic prompts from adults and smug friends has reminded them. One of my darlings has even decided that they will be having a sleep over on the Saturday night. 

Whilst I am glad the enforced fuss appears to have faded away, a small part of me resents it. I am a little saddened by the lack of effort, but I have waited so long to just sleep through the morning. 

I will miss the childlike innocence and profuse outpourings of love, I reassure myself that it isn't forever and that someday they will appreciate parenthood.