Bed, my kids, our dogs, coffee and books.
This is pretty much a list of my favourite things.
Combine all these and throw in an omelette and chocolate croissant and life does not get better.
So, these were my plans for Mother’s Day.
Hanging out with my husband and our kids who are 9, 11 and 13.
They are a fun age because they are learning how to be sassy and sarcastic but they are still little sweet people who need their mum.
I am on borrowed time when it comes to how many more years they will willingly climb into bed on Mother’s Day morning and literally wrap me up in love because they do not realise yet that I am not cool.
It makes my heart swell with happiness.
It is the only day of the year I eat breakfast in bed and what a tragedy that fact is.
I would like to eat brekky in bed every day of the week if I really got serious about doing what makes me full of glee.
I am all for food in bed.
And I do not care what it is.
A recent survey showed 47 per cent of people allow eating in bed but they never allow pasta, soup, curries or stir-fries to be consumed in the bedroom.
I will take any of it.
The other non-negotiable for me on Mother’s Day is the request for a homemade card from each child.
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Last year, my then eight-year-old gave me a card that said:
“I love you to the moon and back, even though you are not very smart”.
Sorry?
The smart bit clearly threw me.
What made my kid think I was not smart?
Ever since that fateful morning, I have whipped him at Monopoly and Uno and any other game we play.
I show no mercy in a bid to show him his mother is not stupid.
Then, for good measure, the same child had added an acrostic poem.
For those who need an English lesson refresher, this is a poem in which certain letters of each line spell out a word when read vertically.
So, the apple of my eye had written MUM.
For the first M, he had ‘Magnificent’.
How sweet.
For U, he wrote ‘Undeniably beautiful’.
This kid has my heart.
And then for the last ‘M’, he printed in block and bold letters: ‘Massive’.
Um.
I am not sure ‘massive’ is a compliment.
I am hoping future Mother’s Day poems are a little less brutal on my self-esteem,
Sami Muirhead is a radio announcer, blogger and commentator. For more from Sami, tune into Mix FM.
