trying super hard
Today was Mother’s Day in Great Britain — an annual milestone marker I’ve long been deeply conflicted about — first as a daughter, because my own mother loathes it on principle (Hallmark holiday), and now more so as a mother since it always seems to preclude the one thing I’ve consistently longed for since kids which was five fucking minutes to myself.
This particular ‘Mothering Sunday’ was one I truly dreaded since it’s my first official one as a single mum. In the end thought it was brilliant. Solly was at a sleepover at his bestie’s, then a tennis lesson, which made me happy as he’s been dogged by illness of late. Then instead of a card Frank brought home the picture above. Before I woke up he also cleaned the house — voluntarily!— hoovering, mopping and dishes included. Absolutely no idea where the kid learned his love of hygiene and order. It’s entirely possible he was rather fortuitously switched at birth. Then in the early evening we went bowling in Bloomsbury with mates. At the end I let the boys do one of those stupidly expensive photo booth thingies and now wondering if I should get contact sheet framed. Scroll down — what do you think?
I love Frank’s drawing. Tempted to frame it myself.😂
The photo booth pics are a laugh. My fave is top left.
What kind of a question is that? Yes absolutely, don’t wait and put it in a drawer. It screams spontaneity, confidence, energy, pride and love. Love of life, love for each other and love for you. May turn out to be the most precious photo you will have on your dying day. It’s a moment. And then it’s gone. It brings tears to my eyes ( not just a tear!) and then a laugh when I recall the years when looking at old photos was inappropriately tearful.
The crying. It was closer to balling really was a response to loss. I had my fair share of loss as we all do. My beautiful little boys who worshipped and depended on me no longer existed. And the person I wasI then is, well, slightly altered, ageing. Still needed and loved but differently. Time is a thief. Your kids become the people you tried to encourage them to be - independent, admirable with opinions that you may not share.
Your contact sheet has captured a moment when tor you life is as good as it gets. You’ll just have to trust me on that.
I’m
Ditto your sons perceptive and oh so connected card. I know you’re up on the fact that you can’t hide anything from your kids. Nothing. Forget it. They know through the molecules they breathe how you feel.
And his message is for Everyone. Wisdom of children.
Try really really hard for a very long long time. Simple, succinct, best advice you’ll ever get, tender and marinated in love.
You need two frames.