I shall write this very brief and quick note while Baby O’Chunky waves his little arms in the air and makes little sounds of frustration, glee and amazement. All before ending it off with a fake little cough as he is not being paid attention to. Something of which he has recently discovered he can do; much to the amazement and hilarity of his lovingly, adoring crowd of followers.
Today, Sunday 12th of May 2019, is Mothers’ Day in Australia.
This morning when waking, Lois will be greeted with a grey cat staring at her before discovering her hair is being munched on and the rather sad thought of not being subjected to cold tea, burnt and very cold toast with a sinful slathering of Vegemite (which should send her children into Vegemite jail for the loaded amount of it). As well as the thought of the house being relatively silent due to the fact, her now very adult children have moved out of home and are not there to yell on top of their lungs, “Sssh…. Don’t wake her up!”
As this sentence alongside a few others and the splattering of Shania Twains’ “Man, I feel like a woman” is played in the background as it has now become a household joke.
In today’s household containing Mr. Darcy, Baby O’Chunky and myself, I woke up to the sight of a frilly, white basinet next to the side of my bed. If I were to raise my head a few centimetres and peer over the edge, I would see Baby O lying peacefully in a deep sleep, with his little arms and legs swaddled in a white swaddle bag. It would be in this moment of seeing his little face relaxed, I watch Baby O in amazement as his mouth parted to release little whimpering, cooing and other glorious little sleep sounds. While resisting the urge to wake him up so I could smother him in cuddles and kisses.
This morning, I woke with the knowledge of not being showered with copious amounts of flowers as they would die in the next coming days due to the decreased amount of sunlight in my little beach shack. I knew Mr. Darcy would cook me breakfast and hand me a cup of coffee (that has long since grown cold) and the future knowledge of this being my somewhat last few breakfasts containing hot and edible meals.
I, too, like Lois would no doubt be subjected to breakfasts consisting of cold cups of tea, crispy burnt toast and an unmentionable amount of Vegemite. Today, the 12th of May, I woke to the thought of this day being my first ever Mothers Day and I cannot find the words to express how incredibly blessed and thankful I am on all levels. However, if I were to define my thoughts in such a simple little sentence, I would use the words: “the realisation of how dreams can really come true.”
Especially, after having spent a few seconds, minutes, months and years doubting my chance of being able to have children, fall pregnant and experience the joys fact of feeling a baby move inside of my uterus and womb. Before succumbing the ultimate game and joy of delivering my child and seeing the wondrous gift I had not only created, carried and nurtured for all those months. It has been a wondrous time of having a delightfully plump and jolly little baby with curly brownish-red hair and blue eyes staring up at me.
All before I watch in silent amazement as his little lips spread and grins up at me, in a rather cheeky manner. Today and every other day, wouldn’t be possible without the support team I have surrounding me and the copious amount of cheering, wise words about motherhood and impending circumstances relating to teething, temper tantrums and unlimited hours spent staring in amazement and horror (this is in regards to explosive nappies and having to change clothes in a hockey carpark!).
My final words for this post are going to be:
Lois, I wanted to thank you for the numerous years that were spent not only preparing yourself for the onslaught of cold tea, Vegemite toast and loud yelling from the kitchen. For having the bravery to eat and drink your ever-so delicious breakfast as you’re subjected to us, children, picking out our favourite chocolate from the stash you had been given as a Mothers Day present and for also, showing equal amounts of excitement at being given the baby sized coat hangers, 50 cent broken candle sticks and the even more fake exclaim of “oh my gosh. Another box of tissues!”
Lois, I believe you deserve an Academy award or a Golden Globe for how fake you can make yourself appear, when being handed the same articles of purchase as the year before and for thanking each and every one of us. You have certainly shown me the way to glory and an Oscar nominated performances when being presented with presents I am not going to enjoy and yet, shall remember them with fondness.
Let’s just hope none of the children give me potpourri or a half eaten gold spray painted picture frame… although, I do suspect that is your favourite present thus far.
Besides me of course.
Happy Mothers Day for 2019 and to the men reading this….. Give your Mother a call and tell her what a phenomenal woman she is and send her a bouquet of flowers.