The First of Many

My first Mother’s Day yesterday was spent just as I wanted: morning ‘snuggles’ in bed with my blossom (read: eye gauging, face clawing and kidney kicking for half an hour before Daddy thought he’d better go make me a coffee and take the crazy baby with him), perfectly poached eggs, a morning of peaceful crocheting in front of the fire and bread baking whilst Matt absconded with Eleanor ‘just ducking to the shops’ (read: last minute frantic dash to get flowers and what-not because he was completely unprepared!) Although I thought they were gone for an eon, he was busily buying pots of chrysanthemums for not only myself, but his mum, his sister, my sister-in-law whose youngest girl was staying with us Saturday night, my 92 year old Nan which he delivered to her door whilst out, and my mum/Super Grandi who is quite unwell with a perforated eardrum at the moment. He went about delivering all his pots of ‘mums to the mums, making sure Grandi’s wheelbarrow was stocked with wood and Nan’s doorbell was fixed as he went. He’s a good egg that one.

Matt’s mum, dad, sister and her children came for lunch – soup and freshly baked bread by the fire whilst the wind howled and rain fell sideways outside our little farmhouse. Brrrr!!! The three mums were celebrated and loved upon, handmade cards and chocolates all round. My mother-in-law, sister-in-law and I went to a beautiful little local play in the afternoon, celebrating women and the juggle that is mamahood.

Oh the juggle. You hear all about it, all the time, I know. It’s a little bit overplayed it seems…but then you become a Mother…and you get it. The constant juggle, the lack of sleep, the zapped brain cells whilst trying to run a home, a family, a life, possibly working a little bit too, possibly working full time. It’s full on. I was fairly ‘child savvy’ before becoming a Mother myself, I had nieces and nephews galore and had spent some time as a nanny. But I didn’t get it until I had that babe on my hip myself, with Mr Washmore in the corner, squashed banana all over my pajamas and hadn’t washed my hair in I don’t even know how long.

But goodness what an honour! To be someone’s Mother. To be a little person’s everything. I look at Eleanor and wonder how you could love someone so. very. much. And then I realise that she loves me just the same. She does. Amazing.

What a blessing Motherhood is, there is not a day that goes by that I don’t thank my lucky stars that I get to experience it, rejoice in it, be frustrated by it, fully immerse myself in these golden days before they disappear altogether. And yet they will continue, change and evolve. My own Mum I know experiences a whole other version of Motherhood now with adult children, finding their way in the world with partners and marriages and children and grown-up stuff. This Mama business is forever, I know that my mum mothers us four and our broods just as much as if we were 10 month olds with snotty noses and teeth cutting through like Eleanor, just in a different way.

And what a way my mum mothers. She is quiet and measured in her Mothering, giving and kind in her own way, selfless, matter of fact and no nonsense, knowing just when to help and just when to step back and let us fall just enough to learn our lessons, scraping our knees but always there to dust us off, make us a cup of tea and wipe our tears. What a beautiful woman I have to guide me through my own Mothering journey, along with Matt’s mum who complements how my mum mothers just right. Two strong women I get to call Mum and Eleanor get’s to help raise her, guide her and help me, her own Mama bear, who still needs Mothering as a Mother herself. In fact, more so than ever.

I hope all the Mother’s had a special day – Mother’s of all shapes and sizes, whether you gave birth to that child of yours, simply have a special ‘daughter’ or ‘son’, are missing your mum or grandmother or a child you perhaps never got to hold. We are blessed beyond measure to have the mum’s we do, I know that. And to be a mum? Well, it’s the most humbling, frightening, blissful, all encompassing love I’ve ever known. Face clawing and kidney kicking included.