THIS is my first and final warning.
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You have less than a week to make Sunday a super special day for your mum, stepmum, grandma or the woman who raised you.
Am I writing this because I’m worried my children will forget?
Not a chance — they still live with me so they get lots of reminders.
Not that they need it because my daughters are actually very good at making my annual Mothers’ Day memorable.
The past few years, they have transformed my entire living room into the theme of my favourite musical, while showering me with gifts and homemade breakfast.
Yes, the kitchen might look like a bomb went off in there, which inevitably leads to me cleaning it up, but I’m not complaining.
Especially after receiving their cute handmade cards or drawings which say things like ‘‘I’m the luckiest person in the world to have you as my mum’’, or ‘‘you really must be a super mum to raise us’’ and even ‘‘I will come bushwalking with you today, even though I hate it, because I love you’’.
They’re my favourite things to receive because it comes from the heart.
Every year, my girls ask me what I would like for Mother’s Day and I always respond with the same answer.
Something handmade I can frame or display in my home.
Either that or a day of no arguing.
It’s funny because my own mother used to say the same thing to me when I asked her about her Mothers’ Day wish.
Something handmade or ‘‘a big hug’’.
I would always roll my eyes and think how lame that was. What kind of mother would want that?
Turns out, me.
Which is good for my kids because the things I really, really want — like a house and new car — would be a little out of their reach.
I mean, the minute they get a bit of pocket money, it’s gone on lollies or a mind-numbing iPhone game.
I guess I was much the same as a child.
I was terrible at saving.
As soon as I got any money, it would vanish by the weekend — either spent on clothes, make-up or books.
So come Mothers’ Day, my own mum was only too happy to receive a handmade gift and card.
Not so talented in the arts and crafts department, my creations were strange at best and I always thought Mum deserved better.
But she proudly displayed my weird works of art all around the house for all to see.
I remember one year I wanted to give her something really special, but as a broke teenager my options were limited.
So I entered a Mothers’ Day competition on the local radio station, where you had to write and read out a poem about your mum on air.
More of a wordsmith than an artist, I came up with the perfect poem and took out first prize — a $1000 pearl necklace.
I couldn’t wait to gift it to Mum and while she wasn’t a huge pearl fan, she continues to wear it to this day.
But what she loved more than that was my poem.
I didn’t get it at the time.
But I did when I became a mother for the first time more than 14 years ago.
The saying ‘it’s the thought that counts’ certainly rings true but even more than that, it’s the effort you put into it.
No matter how bad or corny you think it may be.
When something comes from the heart, it’s the best gift of all.