Mother’s Day Morning.

As a young child, I remember bringing breakfast in bed to my mum on Mother’s Day. She would be propped up by 101 cushions from around the house and a host of teddy bears (supplied by yours truly) ready to receive our love offerings on the one morning of the year she actually gave herself permission to stay in bed longer than us.

My ‘offering’ consisted of cold, blackened toast under an inch thick layer of vegemite, a wine glass of Tang orange drink, an Iced Vovo or two (a classic Australian biscuit), pieces of cheese speared by toothpicks to appear seriously chic (a la 70’s style) and most likely a shiny green apple.

All of this was sprinkled with freshly procured petals from mum’s flowerpots. I am sure she smiled through gritted teeth over them.

My poor mother! Not once did she complain, but graciously sampled her smorgasbord with a giggle in her eye and a grimace on her lips…all the while complimenting me on my creative and generous nature. I would sit on the bed with her, nick an Iced Vovo and prattle on about how much I loved her and thought she was the bestest mum in the entire world until my bubble was burst with my siblings getting in on the action.

The waft of ‘real’ breakfast would make its way from the kitchen where my dad was cooking bacon and eggs, etc. I would pretend that I wasn’t upset by his gesture. Clearly, I saw no need to try to trump what was already before her.

After dad had laid the ‘real’ breakfast before mum, she would notice my eyes glued to her bacon. In true mum form, she asked me if I wanted to help her eat it. I was amazed at her mind reading ability! Welcome to life as a mum if you’re reading this with new mum eyes…nothing is ever completely yours from now on…not even your breakfast!

Then it would be present time! My sister, brothers and I would have made craft, the week leading up to Mother’s Day, with vigour. I remember one year thinking how classy my decorated coat hanger was. As if this wasn’t going straight to the poolroom!

Mum would merit our handiwork and give us a hug and this is right about where the Kodak moment would end. This is when one of us would pick a fight over who’s work should be displayed on the fridge, or who got more of mum’s bacon than the other, or why mum didn’t read my card first or who got to sit next to her. I was the kid who was practically sitting in her lap just to be closer to her than all the others…again…the poor woman! World war three would break out between us causing mum to quote for the millionth time ‘just for once…JUST THIS ONCE can I please eat my breakfast in peace?’ shortly followed by ‘now all of you go and play outside!’

Like most mornings, we managed to bring chaos and joy to mum’s table…and for that lethal combination that grabs a mother’s heart every time, she remains grateful and wouldn’t change a thing.

I now have ‘chaos and joy’ wishing me my own happy Mother’s day and I too am grateful beyond words.

Whatever you eat, wherever you eat, and whomever you eat with this Mother’s day, lap it up and enjoy.

Michaela.

Tagged as: Michaela