It's Mother's Day this weekend, and it's my first as a mum. Mr D has offered to take the three of us out for breakfast on the day, which will be lovely.
I was asked what I would like for Mother's Day, and after realising that sleep cannot be purchased, or wrapped up and put in a pretty box, I began to think of something other than sleep that would be a nice gift.
It got me thinking about what we used to get my mum for Mother's day. I have memories of Dad waking my sister and I up while Mum was still asleep, with the three of us sneaking around the house, making Mum breakfast in bed. This usually consisted of toast and a cup of tea - and then going outside to pick some flowers from the garden to put in a vase on her breakfast tray.
I am sure Mum was on to us, and made a great show of pretending to wake up when we came in, and then acting so surprised/delighted with her cold toast and weak cold tea. But perhaps the delight was genuine, because having your children do something nice for you is special isn't it?
So maybe I don't need a present after all. I'm saying no to the commodification of motherhood! I am above consumerism. I don't need to feel loved through the consumption of a never ending array of must have products. But perhaps I could make an exception for those exquisite boots I saw in Witchery last week...
