Being a mother to four young boys is great fun. It’s always noisy and hectic but they’re great pals, big old softies and no two hours are ever the same, never mind two days. Lots of my friends that have daughters told me on my last pregnancy that it would be great if that baby was a girl as I’d have a great friend for life. Friend for life? I have the four best cuddlers and chatters that I could ever have wished for and they worship me. It’s a great deal.
Their four personalities are so different – Patrick, the eldest at 9 (he’s a twin but eldest by two minutes), nearly tripped over himself, running to me with his poem & crepe paper flower on Friday evening but my patient son, James (the younger twin by 2 minutes but taller by a good four inches) delivered his on my breakfast tray this morning. He had also asked for a loan of €5 on Friday in the supermarket and purchased a big Toblerone so I suspected that was for me too – it was.
James’ Mothers Day Poem
My mum is a:
amazing car driver
My mum is great!
Patrick and Thomas (age 6) are similar in some ways and Thomas gave me my card, complete with tea bag, Friday evening.
Rory (age 4) was well able to wait until this morning and tell me his secret “You’re the best mother in the whole wide world”, although he did tell me his secret last night too. He also gave me a beautiful A4 card with stuck-on flowers & painted vase.
Add to all this, a fabulous Tipperary Crystal basket-weave vase, breakfast in bed of heart-shaped pancakes, freshly squeezed orange juice and the fire lit for when I got up, complete with footstool & ownership of the remote control (a biggie) this has proved to be the best Mothers Day so far. As the boys have gotten older, they’ve made a bigger fuss each year. Can’t wait for next year!
Gerard has taken the boys up through the forestry beside us on a frogspawn-spotting hike. Fire lit, feet up, Pride & Prejudice on the TV, knitting out.
Happy Mothers Day everyone.