Yesterday I was happily skipping rocks in the warm sunshine.
After waking to the sound of "mummy you've got to open your presents now," at 6.15am, I couldn't resist the squidgy face of Little Fella smiling happily at me, "it's mummy's day!"
Indeed.
And this is the reason Little Fella was so excited. His customised seedling pot. I have strict instructions to water it and make sure it's in the sunshine "so it can grow". OK, he can't remember what the seed is, but small matters like that are of no significance to him, it's the fact it will grow, and so, it is now my priority to allow it to grow and I will not let him down.
My pink feathery pot was not a surprise. See, despite carefully removing the pink tissue wrapped gift from his nursery bag on Friday, and his dad telling him to keep it a secret, he just can't help himself bless, so there we are at bedtime on Friday and he says, "mummy, I can tell you about the Playdoh present, but I can't tell you about the plant." I stifle a laugh and pretend I didn't hear the latter comment - despite him repeating it. Anyway, along with some well chosen underwear (I tell you, Kids these days are bloody brilliant), a cute flowey cup, a cuddly "best mummy" teddy and an invalulable lie in, I was stoked to be a mum.
I got to have tea and cake at my favourite cafe, regardless of Big Fella finding every minute painful as JB knocked over a cup of apple juice and Little Fella decided to go walk about on the sun terrace, but as long as I was having a lovely time, everyone was happy (ish).
We took a stroll and stopped off for coffee. JB fell asleep and we went for a drive in the Country. When we arrived home Big Fella took charge of the boys so I could "pamper" myself as we had a table booked for 6 in town, and boy did I take my time, ignoring all the shouting and crying from fights and tantrums upstairs and Big Fella's voice gradually rising, and even when the threats began I continued to happily paint my nails and straighten my hair - after all, it was Mother's Day, and I had so far managed the day without shouting at anyone.
Food was lovely - and so was the drink.
Big Fella and I shared a bottle of Prosecco, and the boys apple juice. JB threw his pizza everywhere, and Little Fella attempted on several occasions to drink the wine from a straw from the bottle whilst we weren't looking. My pasta was stunning, I do love artichokes, tomatoes and olives, and Big Fella's seafood pizza went down a treat. We considered dessert, but we were pushing 7pm and our luck as JB should have been in bed half an hour ago, and Little Fella had developed the "sillies" - a sure sign he was tired.
I tidied up the mess as best as I could and we tipped generously for the trouble.
We got a cab back and Big Fella said he'd put both the boys to bed instead of our usual sharing. I was not going to turn that offer down.
So, I slipped into my comfy's and curled up on the sofa and thought about the lovely day I'd had, and how lucky I am to have the family I do despite how I may grumble about them sometimes, so when I say I was skipping rocks, that's excatly how my day felt.
Karen X
