..to all you sassy mums out there! A special HOLLA to my mum, Ammamma Gone Mad and my precious grandma whose Indian name is Never Very Normal To Begin With – but damn! I love her.
In Norway, Mothers Day is celebrated in February. Thats Norwegians for you. They’d prefer an aneurysm to doing thing the way the rest of the world does it.
Mothers Day in sunny May? Just lame. In freezing February when you can’t crawl out of bed without losing both your legs to frostbite – why, how dandy!
The boys were good to me – knowing fully well that NOT being good to me would involve untold misery and suffering for months – and the possible cancellation of their birthdays. Yes, we know how to toe the line here, we do.
So breakfast in bed it was. Breakfast preceded by spread-eagled-single-in-bed bliss. (Unless you co-sleep, you can’t understand the utter joy of aforementioned position).
The card and flowers were hugely appreciated, (and the Viking can do some serious food deco!) but the paper was readily given up in favour of war-whoops, cuddles and yoghurt in bed. Do not try this at home – ever.
On the other hand, whats some food on our winter coloured sheets when one is the proud recipient of this smothering bliss?
Yup, I thought you’d see it my way;-)
p.s. In case you’re wondering about the haute-not couture, it hit the runways in 2002, a mere few days before Arvind opened his eyes to the world. This ratty rag of a robe has bravely gone through hitherto unexplored hospital corridors and survived its copious share of Ejected Body Fluids. But – its also the ratty robe my babies buried their noses into when they needed my familiar scent; the fabric they clutched at with their tiny little fingers, in lieu of a security blanket; the warmth they crawled into during cold winter mornings.
Six years down the line, its soft, worn and icky – pretty much like the mother I’ve become!
p.p.s Can totally imagine my mother with her hands to her forehead, going, “Ayyo! What is the HOLLA business? Some new bad word she’s picked up or what? Deyvame!” Eyes will roll heavenward as she wordlessly beseeches the gods to make her daughter less of a potty mouth.