As mums, we all romanticise about the idea of a Mother’s Day breakfast in bed, being lovingly presented with a beautiful bunch of flowers, and just generally being waited on hand and foot for 24 blissful hours.
But the reality, at least in Claire Kirby’s house, couldn’t be more different. Here, mum-of-two Claire, from Life, Love and Dirty Dishes, reveals exactly why she really can’t think of anything worse than celebrating on Sunday 26th March…
I used to quite enjoy Mother’s Day before I became an actual mother.
It normally involved a pub lunch somewhere with my mum and was generally quite a relaxing day. Now I am a mother, my relationship with Mother’s Day is somewhat complicated.
I try to treat my mum in some way on Mother’s Day, she absolutely deserves it. Even more so now she’s a grandmother. But with two small children, dining out is rarely relaxing and it usually ends in tears. Probably mine. It’s a battlefield of entertaining bored kids and trying to cool down their food that is served at a temperature hotter than the sun.
Afternoon tea would be lovely, but afternoon tea doesn’t really lend itself to a two year old who is likely to smear jam over a posh lady’s coat the second my back is turned.
I could go without the kids and treat my mum, but then the mum guilt kicks in that it’s Mother’s Day and I am not spending it with those that call me mummy.
Invariably I end up making lunch for my mum. Which of course involves an epic houseclean, and yelling at the kids to stop dropping crumbs everywhere because a) I’m house proud b) I like to add more stress to a situation than is actually required and c) I am my mother’s daughter.
My day will be like any other. The kids will still fight, make constant demands, and produce smelly nappies. They do not understand that this is ‘mummy’s day’. In fact, my seven year old is quite put out by the whole thing, because firstly, I’ve just had my birthday so, “It’s not fair” that I get more presents. And secondly, “It’s not fair” that there isn’t a Son’s Day. You mean a day when I fulfil your every demand, and do whatever I can to make you happy? Every day is friggin’ Son’s Day!
Given the choice of a 5am wakeup call with soggy cornflakes and tea made with cold water, or a nice long lie in and poached eggs with salmon, I’ll take the latter. Every time. And I’m not even sorry. For all the sleepless nights, the worry, the catching sick in my bare hands, the snot covered clothes, and the tantrums, I deserve the latter!
Of course, social media will be flooded with perfect families frolicking in fields of flowers, having blissful days and feeling #blessed, only making the rest of us mere mortals feel even more inadequate.
Then there are my friends and family who don’t have mums to share the day with. My own mum included. This day serves only as a painful reminder of who is missing from their lives.
I love my boys to the moon and back and don’t need a day to remind me that I am their world.
On Mother’s Day, I will try to give my own mum some deserved attention, and accept the fact that it’s not enough due to my own small charges requiring my attention too.
I do look forward to the days when my own boys will maybe take me out for a nice pub lunch. Until they have their own kids and the whole cycle begins again…