Welcome to Mother’s Day Part 2

Part 1 here.

Now for presents. We have learned our lesson; with 4 kids, 2 dogs & 4 cats (they’ll come back for gift wrap) jumping on, off, up & down on the bed it becomes hard to hold onto the breakables while the dog walks on your face to reach to smell if the next present has food in it. I get up and move to a chair.

“I want to give Mum my card first because she will like it best.”

“No, mine is best, I should be first!”

“It’s not fair you always go first!”

“I’m good, I’m going to give Mum my card last,” offers my 23 year old.

“Thank…”

“Because mine is best & you save the best for last!”

“I will decide the order,” yells my beloved. “Stop arguing at your mother!”

“You’re ruining Mother’s Day!”

“No, you are!”

“You always ruin Mother’s Day!”

“Maybe last year, but you did too and the year before that…”

“I’m being good aren’t I Mum, I am your best child aren’t I Mum!” 23 and an IQ over 150 and yet this is her constant refrain.

“You are all ruining Mother’s Day equally, so shut up and listen to your father!” I strive for fairness at all times.

Do you know if you are really sleepy shouting hurts, even your own. But remember if the volume is not high you are only joking, teen logic.

 

My presents are absolutely wonderful. The high school doesn’t run a stall selling presents directly to the kids. I mean I loved the presents I got when they were younger (especially as their father always topped them up) but I sometimes wondered if my children had ever met me. Until one year when I asked why they picked what they did. They carefully explained that they chose things I didn’t have/buy/use. Obviously I needed them (other mothers had them), it wasn’t because I didn’t like, use or was allergic to the product. I was also usually mistaken about my favourite colour, silly me. But I say again I loved those gifts, sometimes only for the humour but I loved them. I do miss the handmade gifts, but hubby got the idea to make them make handmade cards, best cards in years!

Now my husband picks all my presents, unless the older girls run across Sci-Fi or Fantasy memorabilia when they are out with their support worker. So now all my presents are phenomenal. I am not kidding and he hasn’t even been trained. I was ill in the lead up to the dreaded day this year, so hubby bought all the gifts for his wife, mother & mother in law, as well as the last two’s cards. All perfect. And he has been like this since he was a teenager, his first present to me was the most gorgeous necklace/earring set I could imagine (costume of course, we were still both in high school). He is an autistic savant, and his special ability is gift giving. He also does all the housework, but I had to teach him how. Almost makes his inability to father a sane human being worth it. He’s also adorable, so alright, he is worth it.

 

The first four packages are food, I can tell; they set off the Dogdar (K9 powered radar). She is excited on the floor, and he is on my lap wedged between my torso and the package so I can still open it but he can touch (steal?) the contents first. Amongst my later presents I thought one might be another “Summer Roll”, I checked the Dogdar, she ignored it and he didn’t try to snatch it so it wasn’t food.

 

While opening cards & presents on special occasions we have developed a system; the recipient concentrates on the presenting child & their offering and only on the positive & relevant things that they say/do. The other parent does all the necessary adjudicating, yelling and wrestling apart, for as long as there is no significant danger of physical harm. So I focus on the presents; the wonderful, wonderful presents and ignore the children: the horrible, horrible children. And the children think I’m speaking to them not the presents.

“Thank you!”

“Wonderful!”

“I love you!”

This year I even remembered to kiss them, the kids I always remember to kiss the presents, I love presents.

Part 3

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