Mother’s Day – Perhaps this is from a child’s view?

I didn’t see your smiling face when you found out you were pregnant with me, or how you held your tummy protectively.   I didn’t see you laugh when I first kicked the inside of you or I had the hiccups.

I didn’t know the pain you went through to have me, nor did I hear your screams, or see your tears, or feel the injection in your spine to numb the pain.  I didn’t see you push and pant and try to breathe as my body wanted to come out of yours.   I didn’t know that you moved around the bed and room in every position you could think of trying to ease the pain of the contractions that wracked through your body.    I didn’t see you get upset when your milk first came in or realise that hormones were racing through your body and how you thought you couldn’t cope with this little human being that was your daughter.

I didn’t see the stitches you had to have, or the salt baths you had to take to help your discomfort. I didn’t know you cried when you left the hospital for your special treat dinner,  whilst I lay in my hospital crib or that you couldn’t finish your food because you just wanted to get back to me.

I didn’t see you sob for endless nights because I had to have a plaster cast  on my both my legs as my hips were ‘not quite right’, or the frustration that completely overwhelmed you.   I didn’t see you pace the corridor in the hospital, mascara smudging your face from so many tears,  when something went wrong with my hip and I had to have an operation.

I was unaware…but I loved you

You heard me crying in the middle of the night but I didn’t see your eyes closed or you rubbing them to try and wake you.   I did not know what time it was, I only knew that I was hungry.   I didn’t see you stumble from your bed and grab your dressing gown as you quietly entered my room.    I felt you lift me from my cot, warm from the blankets you had wrapped around me to keep me from the cold, but I saw you through my tears and hunger, I saw your smiling face and heard you whisper ‘Ssh little one…I know”. I drank from you, though I did not realise how you fed me.

I didn’t know the words you whispered “Do you know how much I love you” as you held my tiny hand.  I drank warm milk that nourished me and filled my empty tummy and when I was full and half asleep you carried me to my bed and tucked me safely back in and I felt your lips kiss my cheek and forehead and heard you say  “Goodnight my darling”.

I was unaware….but I loved you

I didn’t know that you cried when you took me for my first injection or understood when you told the doctor “I wish it was me that was having this, not her”.   I did not know that you were frustrated with me when I couldn’t settle at night because I had strong pains in my tummy from colic and how tired you were from lack of sleep or how hopeless you felt that you couldn’t stop my pain.

I was unaware…but I loved you

I didn’t witness your tears as you walked back to the car on my first day of school. I was excited and rushed off into my classroom and gave you a wave. I don’t remember saying “You can go home now mum, I’m a big girl”.   My lunches were made each day and a treat was packed for my morning play, I didn’t know it was you.  I saw your smiling face every day when school finished, waiting at the gate to pick me up.   I remember coming home in the midst of winter to a warm house and dry clothes and a towel to dry my hair and something nice to eat.   I remember the stories you would read to me as you sat on my bed and how I pleaded for you to read it over and over again.

I was becoming aware…and I loved you

I didn’t see you pace the floor when I was out at a party or how worried you were when I got my license and drove my first car.   I didn’t see your tears as you hoped that I would be safe on the roads and come home in one piece. I didn’t know that you lay in bed, glancing at the clock every few minutes, waiting to hear the front door open and my footsteps walk down the passage-way.

I was becoming aware…and I loved you

I saw the tears in your eyes when I grew up, the time that I left home.   I didn’t know that the last lot of clothes that I threw in the laundry basket that you would end up washing would make you cry, or see the tears fall down your face as you walked around my empty bedroom. I didn’t really know that you would suffer or feel pain at not having me there anymore.

I was aware…I love you

I saw the tears on my wedding day and the pride in your face as you watched me take my vows and begin my life with my new husband. I didn’t know that you wished your little girl could remain your little girl for ever.

I am aware ….I love you


My eldest who is overseas with her husband for 4 months posted this on FB this morning for Mothers Day (she is currently in South America).  I miss her, but she is having a fabulous time. This prompted my piece today.


Through the pain of childbirth you brought me to this world
you protected and fed me and covered my scratches with band aids
kissed me to make it better and it was
you held my hand to cross the road
you hugged me when I was sad
tried to take away my tears
when I was hurting inside
you did all of these things
and so much more…because you are a mum


Over 50? – Part 3

“You’re finally kid-free. For some people, that is very sad. But I don’t know a single person who didn’t come around to look at all my free time. I can totally take art classes; I’m not tied to running the kids everywhere!

I can relish all the ‘free time’ and have time to do things that I thought I couldn’t do before; however coming to understand what I think I may have missed out on is the hard part. l still miss having my eldest daughter at home.

You recognise that talent does not know age. You learn the value of taking risks, pushing your personal comfort level, reinventing yourself. Talent lies within us at any age be it five or fifty however I don’t think I’ll be bungee jumping any time soon!

  “Your sense of personal style comes together. After decades of experimenting, you learn what feels comfortable, what looks dazzling”.

Totally agree I know what suits me and what doesn’t. I only wish that clothes designers and manufacturers would cater for the ‘young at heart’ older woman. Our choices are extremely limited (if not totally ‘daggy’) in our age bracket- though please remember the stretchy flowing garments. I am in love with Metalicus!

“If a woman over 50 doesn’t want to sit and watch football with her other half she doesn’t sit around whining about it. She does something she wants to do. And, it’s usually something more interesting”.

Looking back at my youth I may have done what I thought ‘necessary’ to please my partner and if that meant watching the football so be it, when in fact I dreaded it. Now I do what I want, when l want without feeling guilty.

“You really have learned who you are as a person, what your likes and dislikes are. It makes life ever so much more pleasant and joyful and simpler when you know. The downside is, it makes it hard to find people to date because you’re so much more selective”.

I am still learning who l am (though l have a fairly good idea) and l certainly know my likes and dislikes. One can feel courageous reaching this point in life knowing that you have acquired the power to now do and say as you please. Would I be fussier if I was single again? Perhaps. It may be looked upon as being too choosy, that as I have grown older I should be grateful for what ever comes along, but I know what I want in a partner, and feel that I shouldn’t have to settle for anything less.

 “We have lived half a life time and are more aware. Now you’re looking for your purpose in life, looking for work you love to do”.

At the age of fifty seven my working years are more than ever drawing to a close halleluiah, I am in a position that for the time being I am content knowing that, though my Super could be a lot more healthy than it is. There is not that need to ‘impress’ as much as there was when I was younger. l can retread my footsteps as it were, through the years l have lived, to see if my life had meaning and purpose. I would imagine that if one lingers on that for too long however, knowing that there may have been goals that haven’t been achieved could end up quite depressing.

“She knows the value of mentoring. There are younger women out there who want role models. A woman over 50 has wisdom to offer”.

Agreed, I have people whom are younger than I that ask advise from me or happy to listen to my views, especially if they are troubled. I feel privileged and honoured knowing that I can impart some of the wisdom that I have obtained over my years.


Repeat after me…. “Arr”

For those of you that are in your 20’s, 30’s, 40’s you may only have to say this as a remark when seeing something new, figuring out the Rubiks Cube , looking at something sweet or finally understanding something.

For those of you in your 50’s and beyond (as I am) you will find this word per se used with more common frequency than ever before.

Examples: –  Getting out of bed, trying to get up from the couch, sitting down on the couch, bending down to put your shoes on, reaching up for something on the top shelf or lifting something.

We get older we tend to ‘arr’ far more, I don’t know the reason, it just spills forth with every action we seem to do, unless you can catch yourself prior to ‘arr-ing’ it will just appear without any explanation as to why. So good luck trying to stop this natural progression you ‘youngens’ 🙂