It sucks
balls. I dread it every year because
it’s yet another reminder that our family is not a normal nine-to-five family
where everyone sits around the table at the same time telling tales about
bigfoot sightings and camping adventures. We’re a tag-team family who work
hours unbeknownst to many, and sometimes our hours clash and we panic.
Mother’s
Day is a day that I avoid all family locations – zoos, lunch spots, picnic
areas, day spas (ha) – because I want to cry my face off when I see parents
together with their kids celebrating all things mum.
Alfie woke
at 5.30am, but as my hubby worked a triple shift yesterday, I got up nice and
early in a very pre-menstrual state wishing everyone who received a sleep in
followed by breakfast in bed to fuck off.
A quick
raining day visit to my next door neighbour’s house retuned my attitude. Why
was I so shitty? I had a beautiful, healthy and happy little boy, playing away
with a truck on the floor. I have a
safe, warm (and very pretty) house, loads of sweet pals, a great job, vegies in
the fridge and, of course, a very loving husband… who just so happens to work
when all the other dads are playing at the park with their kids.
It made me
think about my own superbly awesome mum, Julie. She lives three hours away but
we talk on the phone and visit each other all the time. It’s amazing how having
a child can bring you even closer to your mum.
Growing up,
we lived on a hippy self sufficient 11 acres in regional Victoria. I am a
middle child, stuck between two brothers. We didn’t care about TV, we had a
trampoline, bikes, cubbies, fires, land to run and of course stacks of chores.
We
unexpectedly lost our dad when we were little, mum became a widow at just 38
(five years older than what I am now). Mum trooped on, because she’s a legend,
and still got us to school, fed and as she had been a stay at home mum this
whole time, she even headed to work for the first time since before she was
married. The self-sufficient lifestyle became hard and we were introduced to
the likes of Chicken Tonight and Kantong. We didn’t care, because mum was
always there and always happy to do stuff with us and support us with what we
wanted to do: tennis, cricket, netball, theatre, baking, music video making,
bmx jump creating, helmet designs, fire starting, spear making, pushing stuffed
stockings into jars to make pickled people (Google it), sewing, cross country
running, dancing (my brothers dance better than me) and even making a flying
fox.
Years later,
mum met an awesome dude (who was also our science teacher in high school) and
remarried, becoming a mum to two amazing girls, who also became our rad sisters.
My mum is
the type to tell it how it is, there’s no beating around the bush with her.
She’s probably the only person to tell me that I’m highly strung (which I am),
or to tell me to chill out and go with the flow (which I should). Everything is straight forward
with her and there is never any judging (except when it comes to what
newsreaders wear), which is why she is the best mum ever (and also because she
packs sneakers when she comes to visit because my son doesn’t sit still). My
mum is the best inspiration.
After
telling my neighbour all about my mum this morning, I headed home and saw the
little present my husband had left for me this morning. A little book titled
‘Craft for the Soul’ by Pip Lincolne. It’s perfect.
So today,
on this Mother’s day, I am taking inspiration from this book and doing what my
mum would do if she was in a mood like mine. Today, I am making pom poms.
May your
Mother’s Day be filled with pom poms.
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