Mother Load

I think I'm going to organize my own Mothers Day this year.

I am two for five when it comes to Mothers Days. Two years ago we were evacuated due to the Jesusita WildFire, which meant the breakfast in bed, card, bunch of flowers routine was cancelled as we spent the day driving back to our smoked out house and trying to reassemble our lives. Twice I've been in the UK during American Mothers Days, and despite heavy hints to the contrary, LK does not consider a Mothers Day to exist outside its country of origin. I will admit it is hard to remember a day without the media tapping you on the shoulder and dragging your guilt-ridden carcass to the shops. Last year LK played golf with my brother on Mothers Day. But - don't feel too sorry for me, I did remember to send my Mum a card and a gift this year, but completely forget to honour the day with a Mothers Day phone call. We chatted by Skype, but I completely blanked that it was Mothering Sunday the day of.

This year, I think I'm going to put myself in charge. I've had six years of partial sleep and vomit, nosedrip, food and poop on my clothes. I have paid my dues, I am pencilling in a Mothers Day. I am sure LK will remember this year, but I'm not sure what that will entail. Case in point, he called me last week at work to say he would be coming to pick me up from the office, he was bringing the girls, and he had a treat for me. Not a surprise, you understand, a treat. I've been putting in some long hours at work this year, and it had been a very trying day. I was ready for a treat. I wondered what it could be - dinner, a movie?

What I was not expecting was to walk up to the car and to be handed a gym bag with running trousers, t-shirt (absurdly tight), jog bra and shoes. We were going running! Surprise!

I ended up having a great time - this was part of our run route after all:

But that is why I'm definitely going to reign in the surprises this Sunday and organize some treats of my own.