Middleagemum.com: Mother’s Day In Limbo

It’s Mother’s Day in the UK on Sunday and our inbox has been full all week with PR emails suggesting things mothers might like to receive…From Sea Ferns in frames to Beef Wellington (which still needs cooking), there are some odd ideas out there. I do like the Bloom & Wild idea of postable flowers, above.

Since my children are now fledgling adults, we’re in an odd place with Mother’s Day in our house.

When you are a new mum, time to yourself is pretty much ALL you want, even if it’s just an hour to sit and read a chapter of a book or catch up with Broadchurch without falling sleep half way through it or to paint your toenails without small children rushing in and smudging everything. But now they no longer need to be at my side every minute of the day (remember trying to go to the loo on your own?) I have plenty of time to myself.

When your kids are a bit bigger and are at school, Mother’s Day became less about you and more about whatever amazing card/ collage/ pottery project/ breakfast they had concocted ‘all on their own’ and were deeply proud of. These are, I think, the best Mother’s Day moments and I have a drawer full of gems, my favourite being two clay figures, of John Prescott and his alleged girlfriend Tracy, made by youngestson when he was around six and very into his weekly pottery class. No, I have no idea. Lord knows where John and Tracy came from, but they are pretty fantastic and the total randomness of them made me treasure them even more. But now presents are usually bought, which although lovely to receive, don’t quite have that oddball magic. And who needs more stuff?

When your children leave home, Mother’s Day is the moment to phone or turn up with flowers to remind her you still think of her. But since all three sons are around very frequently (two still live at home) I’m not at the stage where they need to visit/phone me up to chat to remind me they still think of me, since usually I’m being texted/instructed/pleaded with on a daily bases to pick up dry cleaning, lend cars/cash, order contact lenses or give lifts due to public transport ‘not working’. So I still feature quite significantly in their lives which, although I’m making fun, I love it and hope it never ends.

My own mum died some years ago and I miss and think about her every day, so a day to remember her even more seems a little redundant.

And then, with the whole gender conversation going on at the moment, is having a day labelled Mother’s Day a bit old fashioned anyway? Should it have a make over and be something like ‘gender neutral parent day’ instead? This makes me feel a bit like Jenni Murray and the whole what makes a woman debate, but y’know, it’s a mad old world at the moment.

So what exactly, does the perfect Mother’s Day look like to me now?

A cup of tea in bed, a sunny day (please arrange this) spent mostly in the garden doing some light pottering. Lunch provided by someone (and most importantly cleared away and washed up afterwards) followed by a quiet afternoon nap while pretending to read The Gentlewoman’s interview on Phyllida Barlow (still haven’t quite finished it). The evening, well who cares really a long as it features a Negroni or two and good conversation. The odd nice thing said by youngest, middle and eldest son at some point would be appreciated. But this year we’re all happy and healthy and living life to the full, so I guess that’s really all I want.








  • Sarah says:

    Ditto on happy and healthy, long may it continue. I’ll be happy with a card and a kiss from my (big) babes, and a big up to all mums!

  • Sue Evans says:

    Living in three different countries from each other means a Mother’s Day phone call usually brings a tear to the eye: A) because they remembered B) it makes me realise how precious time is and how sad we all live so far away from each other.

  • MaureenC says:

    Couldn’t agree more, the period of hand made gifts was the only time I’ve felt Mother’s Day meant more than a commercial opportunity for retailers. It’s origin is of course nothing to do with actual mothers. Once a year Mothering Sunday was the day servants on big estates could return to their “mother” church and so see their families. There was a point to it then. My grown up children show their love for me all year round and generally get it together to do a card and that’s just fine. The spectacle of wives and mothers who are treated with contempt the rest of the year being taken out for a special lunch once a year turns my stomach.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *