John Boy et al

If we were having coffee I would say this weather is too nice not to sit outside, come and join me in my garden and shall we make it iced coffees today?

Next I would apologise for not having coffee with you last weekend. It’s holiday time in my part of the world and I took a short trip to England with my children to visit family and somehow my intended blog post just didn’t get written. But never mind.

This weekend my thoughts have inevitably turned to Mother’s Day. This is going to sound an odd thing to say, I know, but tomorrow’s Mother’s Day will see me in something of a cultural limbo. I will explain – you see, I am British and in Britain Mother’s Day (the ‘real one’ as I like to think of it ๐Ÿ˜‰ ) falls in March; but I live in The Netherlands where Mother’s Day is celebrated in June, the same day as it is in the USA and other countries.
Now personally I don’t see why I shouldn’t have two Mother’s Days a year but apparently (so says my husband) I’m still only entitled to one a year. I choose to celebrate Mother’s Day on the British date so, for me, this Sunday isn’t exactly Mother’s Day but I’m thinking about it none the less because it is Mother’s Day for so many others.

Yesterday I was reflecting on the differences between the life I thought I would have as a mother (before I was one) and my life as it is now I actually am a mother.

I don’t remember ever not wanting to be a mother. Throughout my childhood and early adulthood it was the only constant and unwavering goal in my life. I just always knew that I wanted to have children.

As a child I used to love the TV show The Waltons, you know, the one with John Boy et al?! Something about a family with lots of children and their kitchen table with all the girls seated on one side and all the boys seated on the other totally enchanted me. I would watch the show and dream of someday having lots of children myself, I mean I was thinking of numbers like ten or maybe twelve children and I’m chuckling to myself now as I type this and remember those kind of thoughts.

Fast forward thirty plus years and I am a mother with three children. (It turned out that three was just plenty! ๐Ÿ™‚ ) The funny thing is that whereas I used to have a singular idea of myself as a mother, most days I feel like I am three kinds of mother rolled into one person. I have a seventeen year old daughter, an (almost) fifteen year old (autistic) son and an eight year old son. Of course all children are uniquely themselves, but with my three children there is very little overlap of similarity in any respect. They are at different life stages to each other, have very different personalities and interests and need very different things from me as a mother.

It’s a challenge and hard work and some days, I don’t mind telling you, I fear I’m not up to the task of being their mother, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. This (sort of for me) Mother’s Day and every other day I am forever grateful that I was able to have children and I feel blessed to be able to call myself a mother.

The Weekend Coffee Share is hosted by Diana here on her blog Part Time Monster.

Check out other #WeekendCoffeeShare posts at the above link and also by using the hashtag on Facebook or Twitter, and maybe join in yourself!


8 thoughts on “John Boy et al

  1. How was England? I was in Cambridge and London and came back on Tuesday. I had so much fun but the weather would’ve been better back home ๐Ÿ˜› Cheers from Finland!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Thank for you sharing this. My kids are only 4 and 2 but their differences are already so apparent. I was feeling kinda overwhelmed today (of all days -being Mother’s Day and all!) about having to be two kinds of persons for them.. but now I feel better โ˜บ

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I know what you mean about the wrong mothers’ day… I’m from the Continent but live in England, and my family does the British mothers’ day which I feel has nothing to do with me. I never remember it (well, maybe nowadays I begin to remember that it’s in March) and I think I wouldn’t mind if they forgot it. But in May I always feel a bit dejected on mothers’ day and have to remind myself that in fact they haven’t forgotten, they did it March. The worst thing is that I know this is really, really stupid!

    Liked by 1 person

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