Mother's Day

My Mother’s Day started on Thursday with a special visit to the kindergarten with the other mums. We spent an hour being pampered and making princess things with our children. The mums got to be the princesses!

After Tomboy and I enjoyed decorating a portrait of myself as a princess, making a princess crown and reading a book together, we moved to the table that had fairy pillows on it. They were for me to rest my hands on while Tomboy gave me a hand massage with some hand moisturiser.

I asked Tomboy if she wanted my hands palms up or down and she turned them so they were palms up. She then stuck her finger in the tub of moisturising cream and dropped a big dollop in my right palm. She then got another rather large dollop and dropped it into my left palm.

Tomboy wasted no time spreading the cream about on my hands. Realising that she had quite a bit of cream on her own hands, she stopped spreading it about on mine and proceeded to rub her hands together.

Still sitting there with slathers of cream on each palm (there was enough to do my legs too), I reminded her about my hands.

‘Rub them together like this!’ she said as she continued to rub her hands together in a vain attempt to get rid of it.

And that was the end of my hand massage. 

The rest of our activities were a little hampered after that. Pulling tiny heart stickers off of a sticker sheet to stick on a plastic pot or threading small beads to make a princess bracelet is extremely challenging when performed with slippery hands. (The teacher had to tie my bracelet together!)

At least I have my wonderful portrait, drawn by Tomboy to remind me of how much fun we had together. 

Her talents are exceptional. See how well she’s captured my double chin. And that isn’t a line of pimples, it’s my diamond necklace and, no, she didn’t make me a ‘ranga’ with a mohawk, that’s an orange tiara. The blue eyeshadow was my idea, reminiscent of the eighties.

I’d love to say that Mother’s Day on Sunday was filled with self-indulgence, but I worked all day, while Mr T cleaned the house and kept the kids busy so I could get on with the job. I did, however, spend the day in my pyjamas (the benefits of working from home) and received some wonderful presents.

At least Boywonder didn’t declare the day his five minutes after I opened my presents – like he did last year.

http://becausemumsaid.blogspot.com/2010/05/mothers-day-or-is-that-boys-day.html

 

Mothers Day or is that Boys Day? (2010)

Originally posted: 5 Sept 2010


I mentioned in a previous post that Boywonder wanted a day for himself, but since he hadn’t set a date we didn’t take it too seriously. We discovered today that he had set a date - Mothers Day!

At 9 am, after we finished eating breakfast and unwrapping my presents, Boywonder said, 'Well, that was a good Mothers Day.'

He then put on the badge he'd received on a birthday card last October and declared the day his. He called it ‘Boys Day’.

Cheeky sod!

I spent Mothers Day doing what I do best, being a mother.

I did the ironing and then I washed Apprentice’s clothes, because she doesn't have a washing machine and ran out of time to wash them yesterday. She was coming back to do it today, but I knew she wouldn't get it dry in time. Then I helped Uni Student with research for an essay she was having trouble with about the changes to the workplace acts.

Five minutes after posting this I will begin some ‘me’ time; I will have access to a timed assignment that I must complete before 10pm tomorrow night.Some may gasp and splutter, 'that's not 'me' time', but to me it's very much about 'me'.

Some might think my day sounded as bad if not worse than any other day, but I don’t have to cook any meals today, and that is a big help. Helping my children always makes me feel good.

Happy Mothers Day to all those hard working mothers out there.I think this rose is symbolic of the love, blood, sweat and tears that comes with the job.

What About My Day???

As Mr T finalised the Mother’s Day shopping on behalf of Boywonder, Tomboy and Miss Flora, Boywonder asked a very valid question. ‘What about my day?’

It made perfect sense to Boywonder; he’d just watched Daddy open birthday presents last month, he’d be watching Miss Flora open her birthday presents in a couple of days, and he’d just finished helping Daddy buy presents for Mummy to open on Mother’s Day.

We explained to Boywonder that he already has a day each year; it’s called his birthday. Despite explaining this several different ways and using examples he’d understand, Boywonder was still determined to have ‘his day’. Each time he heard Mother’s Day mentioned he’d remind us about ‘his day’, and since he hadn’t set a date we let him prattle on about it.

By the time Mother’s Day arrived Boywonder had forgotten about ‘his day’ – or so we thought. At 9.00 am we’d finished eating breakfast and I’d unwrapped all of my presents.

Mr T was asking me what I’d like to do next when Boywonder interrupted with, 'Well, that was a good Mother’s Day.'

He then put on a badge he'd received on a birthday card the previous year and declared the day his. He called it ‘Boys’ Day’.

Boywonder strutted around the house wearing his badge and reminding everyone that it was ‘his day’. He was so proud of his ingenuity at turning Mother’s Day into ‘his day’ that we let him have his moment of glory. Besides, once he realised he wasn’t getting any presents, the novelty soon wore off (just in time for my Mother’s Day dinner).