Mothering Sunday; what a crock of…

by

I doubt I will sleep tonight, the anticipation may be overwhelming to say the least. For tomorrow it is all going to happen, tomorrow is the big day…

The creators of the hugely lucrative Valentines Day (and the not so successful grandparents day) are rolling out for another year, the much awaited Mothering Sunday.

Tomorrow I get to be a mother for a whole day! It must be true because Clinton cards have it on huge banners all across the store and Tesco have metamorphed into a garden centre, even next to the chicken carcasses you are merrily reminded that it is the day to be a mum with the inappropriate point of sale equipment which is overflowing with tulips and their cheap date daffodils.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind having a day in my honour; but I am a bit miffed about sharing it with a million trillion others.

If I am frank my perfect mothers day would probably involve diamonds, a bucket of gin and a spa with some loin cloth attired chap attending to my every need.

But it would seem the real irony of mothers day is one must spend it with their offspring.

It is also encouraged that you should go out to dine which in my book is often one of the most stressful activities I do with my three small people. Unless our chosen food establishment is hut shaped and serves food astonishingly high in calories content the meal is destined to go only way…

Up shit creek.

At some point twin boy will reveal the contents of his meal, regurgitated twice, to twin girl, who will then proceed to shatter glass with her ear piercing scream. I will then begin to sob silently as my only saving grace, a nice Pinot blush starts to drip off the table since its goblet has disintegrated into thousands of pieces. As I bend to retrieve some spare shards of glass BB will seize the opportunity to empty her meal on my head and I will return to the table with macaroni for hair and a cheesey chin.

I will struggle to sleep tonight, the fear may keep me awake…

24 thoughts on “Mothering Sunday; what a crock of…”

  1. Nope, we never go out to eat. Especially on Mother’s Day. For all the reasons you mention above and a million more. Instead we are going to have a roast lunch, and DH is cooking!

    • We staed in last year, he who helped create them was ill (read hungover) I cooked and cleaned up – this year better involve oodles of dafoldils and dinner with a nanny!?!

  4. I was lucky – he went to see the Wales/Italy match last weekend and felt guilty, so gave me a wad of cash and told me to “buy myself something off the girls”… Oh I had a great day!

  5. It gets better, I promise! Without being asked the small boy has promised to let me have a lie in and the 19 yr old has told me that she is going to cook the roast dinner tomorrow. I could get used to this 🙂

  8. Too true. My card says Daddy will do everything today, but we are 3 hrs in & already I’ve sorted stuff out for him so he could get to swimming on time! After another restless night with Buddy & being 37+5wks pregnant all I want to do is sleep! I will count some zzz’s now!

  10. I was listening to the radio yesterday when a 10 yr old girl described how she and her 7 yr old sister had set up a spa in their bedroom for their Mum. The poor woman had to endure a ‘massage’ with cocoa butter, laying on a towel on their bed, and then have her nails painted. No doubt she got to clear the mess up after she’d warmed up and got the acetone to her cuticles too!

  11. Jane your post has awoken so many memories, not least my first cup of coffee on mothers day 19 hundred and frozen to death, prepared with love.
    All my heath and safety preaching adhered to.
    “It’s ok, I used the special coffee, it’s not too hot because I know I’m not allowed to touch the kettle so I just put the milk in”, yum grounds in milk chewey…………..

  12. my son wants to know when’s the day for boys? rang clinton cards but they put me on hold for ages.
    a meal out on my own with a book would be fabulous – the campaign begins here.

Comments are closed.