It marks that one special day that the children you have brought into this world say thank you for all that you do. It’s a day I actually look forward to ’cause let’s face it, in a world of mayhem, madness and muddy feet, we don’t hear those two beautiful words very often.
I love it when I receive pressies that my daughter has made at kindy. She hands them (actually throws them) to me with such pride and excitement that you would think she had created a Nobel Peace Prize-winning novel when in actuality, it’s a mumble of uneven, randomly written letters and a picture of a dolphin that looks more like a robot with a penis on its head. And when she asks ‘Do you like it Mummy?’ Of course, the answer is yes. And it’s the truth, I absolutely love it.
Those presents, I love. They come from her little heart and place of creativity. No one else in the world will have what she has given me and that’s pretty darn special. When it comes to my husband buying me actual presents however, this can be an issue.
My hubby is my best friend, he knows me well, and understands that when I say I don’t like it, I really don’t like it and we can take it back. But I am seriously getting sick of taking shit back.
I know this probably sounds selfish, but I don’t want stuff that will sit in the cupboard, get dusty and take up space that’s meant for nothing. On top of the sheer annoyance of stuff, I hate knowing that my husband has wasted money on crap that quite frankly, he knows I don’t want or need.
So, for the purpose of sharing my Mother’s Day NO list, here’s hoping my hubby reads this or you can share it with your partner and get something that you love/need/want”¦or nothing.
Yes, they are pretty, and yes, they sure do smell nice. But what’s one thing that shits me to tears about flowers? They DIE. So not only is that $50 down the drain, but I see it as being partially symbolic. You give flowers with love but they die, so will our love die along with those flowers?
And the mess, oh the mess! All of those brown, dead petals and orange powdery crap that stains the carpet! Presents should be enjoyable, not have me on my hands and knees scrubbing at the floor coverings.
I. HATE. BATH. SHIT. I have so many bombs, puffs, gels and scrubs that I should be the cleanest woman in the whole entire friggin’ world. They take up so much room in the bathroom cupboards that important things like pregnancy tests that I no longer need and shampoo that makes my daughter’s eyes red no longer sit front and centre. And really, do I smell that bad that I need an entire shea butter set containing a lotion, scrub, shower gel and body butter? Like seriously.
One thing you can’t buy for another person is perfume especially on Mother’s Day. Everyone has their own scent or types of smells they love. If I tell my hubby that I like a scent that is slightly nutty with a woody accent and floral undertone, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t have the slightest clue what I am talking about. And even if I gave him the actual name of my fave perfume, he would buy something completely different because ‘the box is nice and the girl said it’s really popular’.
Or any other household cleaning, domestic appliance for that matter. Why? I cook and clean every day. A present should be something I want, not something that I apparently need that silently and shiftedly encourages me to clean MORE. I’ve got a better idea! Grab the broom, the mop, whatever and make my day special by DOING IT YOURSELF!
Sure, I can use it to throw at you.
They’re so cute and fluffy and make your feet look so adorable but they’re so cliché and 1990s. Mother’s Day has changed man, us mums of today are cool, hip and totally drink chai lattes out of non-Styrofoam takeaway coffee cups. If you buy me socks, they better be Under Armour, no sweat, fit like a glove athletic socks ’cause that’s all I can wear when I walk 20m to kindy every day in my gym gear.
A bit like perfume, candles are such a personal thing. Some scents are just rank, even if they do choose Ocean Mist like you asked, the brand makes such a big difference. One person’s idea of ocean smell is very different from another’s. And one thing that sucks about burning a crappy-smelling candle is that it’s not just confined to your clothes, it’s everywhere”¦literally — the lounge, the bathroom, the kitchen. You make muffins and your muffins don’t taste like muffins, they taste like someone else’s deluded idea of a beach.
I feel very awkward when I receive concert tickets from my husband. It’s like, he’s giving me two tickets for Mother’s Day when really, one is already his. I’m going, to be honest, yes, I love seeing Russell Brand with my similar-humoured hubby, but Beyonce, that’s reserved for my closest girlfriends. And Ed Sheeran, well, that shit must be done with the girls in case of intense wet-dreams mid-show.
They understand, my hubby simply wouldn’t, and the guilt trip associated with telling him that I choose Kim over him, well, that just makes me feel bad when I should feel good. It’s my present after all!
I know, I know, you’re berating me for being so ungrateful but really, you know you wish you could dictate what gifts you received and more so, what you didn’t.