I love Mums.
I’ve always loved my friends’ Mums. First there was Judy. She made couscous which blew my mind. And then Jane. Jane made these delicious filo pastries which, as an adult, I just can’t get right. Then Jill came along and even gave me my own lunchbox in high school. Man I loved that lunchbox! And then Glendy stole my heart in my early twenties. Then I started working with the most incredible, caring women, who also happened to be mothers. How you ladies do it… I don’t know. I inherited about 5 new Mums and I love it. I really do just love Mums. They’re the best.
But I especially love my Mum. For obvious reasons.
In the beginning she gave me life. She fed and clothed me, gave me shelter, nurtured me. She gave me the gift of avocado and marmite on toast, her love of blue vein cheese from a very young age. Then I learned to walk and talk, dance and dress up in her old clothes and well, from then on I think it was a matter of her putting up with me more than anything.
(‘What was it like to raise me?’ “Well… you were very entertaining.”)
Every Mum has a story or two they can tell about their children. Now, you ask my Mama to tell a story about me and I’m sure she’ll tell you a few doozies. Like the time I managed to escape my three babysitters and was found cruising around the block on my tricycle, aged only 2 or 3 years old. Apologies for that, team. Ride or die.
But what you may forget, Mums, is that we children have a few stories we can tell about you…
Like any good Mother, mine has helped me through momentous life events, offering up wisdom and advice. Often in mind-boggling “Did she just say that?!” one-liners. And some of them, well, they’re just too good not to share.
Like the time I got my first period. (Sorry male readers, stick with me here. You will want to read this one, I promise.) Absolutely shocked, horrified, embarrassed, in the midst of a tween break down thinking that my life was over even though I had known to expect it, I went to tell my Mama that the day had finally come… I had become a woman.
And she was on the phone.
And I got scared.
So me being me, very polite and all, not wanting to interrupt but NEEDING to get the seriousness of this event across, well, I held my knickers up in my Mums face.
Girls that is one way to get your Mums attention. There are many others that also work. But this is the road I went down and as horrifying as it must have been for the both of us, it worked a treat.
The phone call was finished up. I was sat at the table and ‘the talk’ was about to happen.
Was it going to be the ‘birds and the bees’ talk? Was she going to say anything about sex? Ew, I hope not, boys are gross. Yuck. I already looked it up in the dictionary anyway so I know what it is. WHY WOULD ANYONE DO THAT?! (This was my stream of consciousness as I waited for my mother to say something.) She, at the same moment in time was probably stalling, trying to think of something to say. And then it happened.
“How do you make a hormone?”
(WHAT?! WHY IS SHE TALKING ABOUT SCIENCE RIGHT NOW?! I have absolutely no idea. Should I know? What didn’t they tell me in puberty class? I thought I knew it all!?!)
“I don’t know… Something to do with DNA or something like that?”
“No….. You don’t pay her!”
“Do you get it? How do you make a whore moan? You don’t pay her… A whore is a prostitute… and prostitute’s… ”
“Well if you don’t pay her, she’d get mad”
That was it. Nothing else was said other than it was too late, the store was closed. Sleep on a towel and we’ll go in the morning. And that was my induction into womanhood.
16 years later and I’m still slightly perplexed by the entire conversation. Did it really happen? It couldn’t have… Mother’s don’t do that to their daughters… Yes folks. Yes they do. It did happen.
So after that stellar event, there was the time I went to Uni and decided maybe it was time I went on the pill.
Off I took myself to the Uni doctors, feeling like a real adult who looked after themselves. I had the consult and feeling chuffed with myself, headed to the pharmacy to fill the prescription and treat myself to a hot chocolate. On the way, I thought I’d text me Mam to let her know how sensible and how much of a grown up I was. The reply;
“That’s good, you should try before you buy!”
Cue my jaw dropping in the middle of Willis Street.
There it was in black and white. My Mother just told me to get out there are get amongst it. Not the response I was expecting.
So to that end here are a few more doozies from the wisdom that is my beloved Mama.
The time she spied my second tattoo;
“WELL. You’re going to look terrible in a wedding dress.”
Mum on life..;
“Sometimes you just need to put your big girl pants on and get on with it!”
Or the time I told her I was online dating
“Oh, that puts the shits up me, that does.”
On me writing this blog (at least 6 times);
“So can it be traced back to you? Has it got your name on it?”
(Why, what are you scared I’m gonna write Mama? Something like this perhaps?)
The time the family were having a post dinner conversation about the Gynecological profession;
“Oh, that’d have to be a c**t of a job…”
So that’s my Mama. Full of swift quips, often the dirtiest remark at the (dinner) table. She still chuckles every time she (or anyone) farts and loves toilet humour more than anyone else I know. Maybe I didn’t have couscous or filo pastries growing up but I did have my leopard spot vegemite toast, at least 5 different types of cheese and a farting competition almost every week. We laughed, we chuckled, we giggled.
So Mums, Mums-to-be and Mums of the future…
You have good times with your children, you have times where they test every ounce of your self-control. You have fun, you have tears. You have laughs and giggles, cuddles and snuggles. You are proud of your child every step of the way, for every achievement.
Well it swings both ways. I couldn’t be more proud of my Mama. She raised three children to be reasonably respectable, hard working members of the community. She has at 60 years old reignited her passion for music, proving that you’re never too old to learn something new. And she still cares for me like a mother should her baby girl (but really, I am a grown woman… most of the time).
So, what’s your favourite one liners from your Mama? You’re bound to have one or two.
To all Mums.
You make the world go around. You are wonderful, you are fantastic, you are needed and you are loved.
And to My Mama, I love you to the moon and back, and back again. You make my world go around. I love you more than anything. You (and your quips) are the reason I am me. Thank you. You’re truly the best.
Happy Mother’s Day.
But Mums… Beware.
Be careful what you say to your child/ren.
They may just turn out to enjoy the gift of literacy and write a blog post about you in the future.