Mothers Day Memories

This Mother's Day will be a little different to those in the past. Two of my children won't be here, at home with me, and already I feel that absence deeply.

One has already given me a gift and sent a card (the other one's a student at Uni so I will be amazed if he realises it's Sunday, never mind Mothering Sunday) and the other five I'm sure will make a fuss of me.  It gets almost embarrassing in church when they all present me with the little posies they make there - there are so many of them I end up with a decent sized bunch of flowers!

I know I am blessed with my larger than average brood and already dread the day when all my baby birds will have flown the nest.

People often think that with a big family you somehow can't love your children as strongly as someone with say, two children. They could not be more wrong. Love does not run out - it grows and I feel almost overwhelmed with love when they are all crowded round the dinner table, or crammed onto our sofas. I am a very proud mum!

Right, Sick bags away. Let me share one of my memories from one Mothering Sunday a few years ago.

 I was woken by much muttering and shuffling and giggling in the doorway where my husband stood with a small crowd of over-excited children who had asked him if they could make me breakfast in bed. Bless him he had only gone and let them.

I was served 2 Weetabix which had about 1fluid oz of milk poured over it about 20 minutes before. It had turned into a tepid gelatinous mound of wallpaper paste. Yum.  Also being served was a pint of orange juice and half a cup of VERY strong tea. With no sugar which renders it undrinkable in my book.

I thanked them profusely and as soon as they left the room I tipped half of the orange juice over the cereal which created a muddy pool of blobby lumps floating in juice which I forced down with the help of large gulps of nasty tea.

I heard them returning upstairs and showed them my empty bowl making a variety of appreciative noises as I tried to swallow the last glutinous lumps. Some of which might have sounded like me gagging but luckily they didn't seem to notice.

Then I notice they had another tray for me - with a mound of burnt toast, minus butter but with the addition of about an inch of jam. I glared at my husband who shrugged. He knows I like my toast lightly done with lashings of real butter and a teeny weeny scraping of jam. Just you wait til Father's Day I thought.

Luckily there was some of the tea left which helped wash down the toast. This time I was watched while I ate- I'm still waiting for my Oscar for "Best performance by a mother when forced to eat food made by her children."

Delighted by my enthusiasm for their lovely treat they enquired if I wanted anything else. I assured them I was full and they departed satisfied their duty was done. I lay quietly for a while pretending to snooze waiting for the nausea to pass while my stomach protested about the lovely meal I had just dumped in it.

It sounds like I am ungrateful but actually although I have had lots of lovely Mother's Day's this one stands out as I remember the pride on their faces as they presented me with breakfast in bed.


  1. Here's hoping their culinary skills have improved and you're enjoying something a little more enjoyable this morning x

    1. Was hectic this morning and ended up grabbing some cereal myself! Currently cooking my own dinner too.

  2. And there was so much love in every lump and burnt piece of toast. ;)
    Hope your tummy recovers soon. ;) Lovely post. :) X

  3. Great post! I think I have all this to look forward to. Maybe I should start hinting that mama's perfect breakfast consists of gin and ready salted crisps!!

    1. Ooh I have stomach ache just thinking about that combination!

  4. Ha ha - that's very funny. I can just imagine their looks of anticipation watching you eat. It was my first Mother's Day away from my children this time :-( I'll have to recreate it next Sunday instead.

    1. Aww I'd hate that. Hope they make it extra special even though it's late.


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