My new favourite song, since finding a £4 gem of a CD at Woolworths last week, is Alma Cogan’s In the Middle of the House. What a hoot! We do not have room for a railroad track in the middle of our property, but we do have Scalextric from time to time and I’m saving up for some Brio.
I received my first Mothering Sunday card yesterday from my daughter (whose handwriting looks remarkably like her father’s). I also got chocolates and flowers, but only at home. We did not do Mothering Sunday at church this year. Too sensitive all round, what with various sad departures and friends of ours having lost a baby when he was born in October. Clare held Lily for a while in church yesterday and always asks how she is doing. They have put up more photos of Theo on their own blog recently.
I have to agree that celebrating mothers in public, along with an excess of saccharine or lateral TV advertisements (“Who needs daffodils Mum when you can have a Nintendo DS?”) really is unfair on many people who do not have a living mother, as well as those who have suffered in their own upbringing or route to parenthood. It rubs salt in the wound, and pretends to kiss it better.
Some people say mother’s day is unfair on fathers, although they may like to look into the history of it all. I find it quite reasonable that my dad does not approve of Father’s Day, being manufactured by such kind-hearted capitalists as Hallmark. As my husband does actually send his father a card, we shall have to see what Lily decides to do in June…
Personally I would far rather encourage and thank both of my parents for their tireless and patient work bringing me up by living a decent and honest life, full of effort for others, hard work and love for family. Where I cannot pay them back I intend to pay the reward forward to my own child and any other children later.
Including singing along with Alma Cogan, when necessary.
jam and giraffes 