For the first time, this year, I experienced a genuine Mother's Day moment. Angus carefully and purposefully snuck a small parcel home from preschool last Tuesday. Covered in hand-painted wrapping paper, he informed me that it was to give to Daddy and I wasn't to touch it. I'm sure glad I didn't leave it up to either of them to actually remember it this morning, as they both completely forgot. But I didn't. I kind of hoped it would be something special. Something handmade. Something that I'd be able to treasure forever and a day. And it is. A framed drawing of me. I love it.
There were no excuses when it came to training this morning. I was out and amongst it by seven thirty, in blustery cold conditions. But it felt good. After spending time with my Mama on Friday, today we lunched with Scott's family. A nice afternoon was spent chatting, eating and drinking. All four cousins were beautifully behaved and had a ball playing together.
Four years in and I'm still not quite sure how I feel about being a Mama on Mother's Day. For so long it has always been about appreciating my own Mama, or in years gone by, my Nana. And for many years now, Scott's Mum. To me, it is just like any other day and I'm cool with that. I don't expect to be spoilt and certainly could not ask for anything more than my adoring boys to be around me, doing what they do. Just looking at their precious little faces is all the reward I need. I feel sincerely privileged to be their Mama.