Today is the seventh time I’ve celebrated Mother’s Day as a mum. Seven years is such a short time and yet I struggle to remember the time before my girls arrived and took over my life. Seven years is also a long enough time to make me appreciate what a wonderful job my own mum did.
Thank you to my own girls for seven, five and four wonderful years of fun and cuddles. Thank you for all the story books and adventures shared. Thank you for the many laughs at your funny antics; we have the photographic evidence to embarrass you with when you’re older. Thank you also for all the annoying little things that drive me mad now, for I know I’ll miss them when they’re gone. I long to use the loo without an audience, to stretch out in a hot bath without sitting on plastic bathtoys, to wash my hands without sharing the sink with a mermaid and to sleep through the night without a small person sneaking in and pinching the covers. I know this time won’t last and I’m simultaneously relieved and saddened.
When I had my first baby people kept telling me to cherish every moment as it goes by too quickly. How true. One minute I was cradling a baby then suddenly I’m buying school uniform. Where did that time go? I did, I do still cherish those moments and now I’m excited to watch my babies grow into independent, clever, beautiful young girls complete with strong opinions, attitude and a quirky sense of humour.
My girls almost allowed me a lie in this Mother’s Day. Technically I stayed in bed but they were far too excited to let me snooze, instead they took it in turns to bring me cuddles and homemade cards. My eldest gave me a poem, my middle daughter a handwritten and illustrated storybook and my littlest, a decorated pot of soil. I’m assuming she’s planted me some seeds but she can’t remember. I will water my magic pot of soil with anticipation.
Happy Mother’s Day
To my mum and all the other special mums out there.