All the things you couldn't give them...
A Mother's Day letter.
You’ve let them down.
Your children.
You’ve failed to give them everything they ‘need.’
You’ve made mistakes.
You’ve let them go without.
You couldn’t afford the fanciest doll’s house.
The one with the mini bath and the couch and the working lamp.
They would have been so excited.
Instead they had to find an old box in the garage.
They carpeted it with a face washer.
They drew pictures on the walls as framed artwork.
They used their own night light for a lamp.
The scale of things didn’t matter to them.
When it was dinner time, they couldn’t be dragged away.
You saw art sets for sale at Christmas time.
You couldn’t quite make it work.
Your kids don’t have an easel.
Or different sized paint brushes.
Or the right kind of paper.
They’ve been finger painting on the floor for hours now.
They look kind of happy about it.
They wanted to make muffins, but you didn’t have all the right ingredients.
They had to make do with what they found in the pantry.
They ignored ratios and measuring cups and threw it all together willy nilly.
You have no idea what they made…but it was kind of delicious!?
You saw other kids with pre-made cubby houses.
All complete with opening windows and mailboxes and cutlery.
Your kids had to search high and low for the perfect hollowed out bush.
They thought it was hilarious when they realised you couldn’t see in from the outside.
You called out to them and only heard whispers and giggles.
They made a bed of leaves, and chairs from old logs.
They stuck a sign out the front, written in mud.
It read, ‘Just a normul bush.’
You missed the soccer club sign ups by a day.
They were devastated.
You worried about their health and development, and especially their socialisation.
One day, the neighbours were playing with a soccer ball in the empty paddock between your house and theirs.
Your kids ran out and joined them.
Within a couple of weeks, there was a whole bunch of players and an unofficial Sunday afternoon game.
All the neighbours stopped to play. There were people of all ages.
Somebody brought homemade lemonade.
Everybody wore knee high socks.
The kids loved that part.
You were too exhausted during the school holidays to take them anywhere fun.
Their friends all went to the aquarium and to the zoo and the museum.
You prioritised your rest instead.
One day you woke up and there was a worm in your kitchen sink, along with a bunch of leaves and a large chunk of dirt.
As you attempted to remove it, a child came hurtling towards you, “That’s wormy’s new habitat!!!”
Your house was now the zoo.
The guinea pig was in the bath tub.
There was a beetle in your favourite mug.
They charged you actual money for entry.
I don’t know how they’re going to cope with all this disappointment, these poor kids.
I guess only time will tell…
Happy Mother’s Day, you negligent superstar.
(Best check your slippers before you pop them on tonight!)
x
Lysette
