Mother’s Day

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I have never been a huge fan of the commercial side of any of these ‘days’ that litter our calendar.  It seems to me that if you cannot appreciate that person all the time, then showering someone with a card and gifts one day in the year is not going to absolve you of your miscreant behaviour for the other 364.

However, that doesn’t mean I am not a little bit partial to a home made card and a bunch of flowers.  Because that’s the kind of girl I am.  Full of double standards.

So although I am not interested in shop bought cards and fancy gifts, I do enjoyed being spoilt.  And I feel as though, this year, it has been pitched just right.

The wee boy made his card at kindergarten a few days ago, which has meant that the beautiful card has been sitting on top of the piano since Thursday.  Then yesterday, after defrosting from being outside at the Spring Fayre for four hours doing the smoothie bike, (which reminds me, all the cake got sold so they must have tasted ok – big tick for courgette cake there then) my beautiful man and the wee one ventured out on a mission to buy take away pizza and returned with that AND a bunch of flowers.  My favourite of which was the rose bud which had obviously fallen off but had been pushed back into the bunch so as not to lose the aesthetics.

But my favourite bit of Mother’s Day was something the wee boy and I do often.  We hang out together in the bath.  Today we played, amongst other things, ‘I spy’.  And as we’re lying there together, enjoying each other’s company and making each other laugh, I squeeze him tightly, and think how lucky I am to have all the wonderful people in my life that I do.

Of all these people in my life, there is just one person I would have loved to share all this with, but sadly, never got the chance.  Someone I know would have understood implicitly the unconditional love I have for my wee boy, and be as genuinely delighted as I am to revel in the games played and tales told.

My mum.