Sobbing at a Comment

I was having a bit of a moan on Facebook on Sunday night.  I was sitting at the computer reading my course work, I was sewing ribbons on Baby Girl’s new ballet pointe shoes and I was sticking on labels on my yearly batch of birthday cards.  I was fed up.  I had run around all weekend like a mad thing and was feeling out of sorts and needed some Facebook love.

I was also a bit cross that Hubby was lying on the couch doing nothing.  It always amazes me how the amount he achieves in a weekend is something I could do in 30 minutes, but all that I achieve would take him 6 months.  A lovely friend of mine has in the past insisted that her Hubby take her out to lunch, as she can’t stand to see his unproductivity compared to hers.  I totally understand.

Anyway, I had a word with him, and he rightly stated that he works very hard and that if he didn’t rest on the weekends, he would make himself sick.  Yes, I agreed with him, but I suggested maybe if instead of only doing 1 flurried hour of work, he could up it to say 2 hours and then maybe I could get to sit down for 1 hour.  Ah, he said – he hadn’t thought of that and said he would try.

So, my lovely friends commented on my moany post and were all very gorgeous and supportive.  Then one said “You need your mum!”.  OH MY WORD.  I just lost it and had a little sob.  Yes, I know I’m tired and probably slightly hormonal, but there is a reason behind my tears.

My mother lives in Australia and I live here.  All my proper adulty life – mortgage, husband and 2 kids life, she has been on the other side of the world.  This is not her fault or mine (could possibly be Hubby’s?) but that is just the way it is.  I would see grandmothers standing at the school gates doing the pickup and sigh.  I would hear other school mums saying they were going away without the kids for the whole weekend and that the kids were at the grandparents and feel green with envy.  I have even on occasion lectured my friends on how lucky they are to have babysitting services and parental support on tap.

But I wasn’t sobbing at my friend’s comment because my mum is not here.  I was sobbing because finally, as soon as she sells her house, she is going to BE HERE.  WITH US FOREVER!!!!  She will be here, sitting at the dinner table at Christmas, she will be able to go to Baby Girls ballet concerts, she will be here for birthday parties and summer BBQ’s.  She will just be here.  I am so very excited, she is great company and a great mum and I CAN’T BLOODY WAIT!!!  And for the first time in my fiercely independent adulty life I am proud to say – Yes, Yes indeed, I do need my mum!