It's that day again...

I'm a hopeless romantic. I'll admit it. But, I'm that rare kind that is also prone to cynicism. Not a positive combination with the inevitable Valentine's Day fast approaching. So, I know I'm going to get some backlash on writing this post. But, here goes. 

Every year I get a Valentine's card from Hubby and I get him one. I'll get a bouquet of roses and even a gift. The first year we were married I was over the moon with it. But, as time passes, I

told Hubby to stop buying flowers because they're just too expensive. A $5 rose becomes $10. And, yes you can argue it's the sentiment behind the giving of roses but I'm lucky enough that Hubby buys me flowers regardless of what day it is. And, yes, the gifts given have been particularly nice - surely that's what birthdays, wedding anniversary's and Christmas is for, yes?

I say, leave Valentine's Day for the singles. Isn't that the point of the day? To get a card signed with a question mark or flowers arriving with a note attached saying: "you're a bit of all right!" Where the woman or man in question will ponder who finds them attractive. It will give them a buzz, make 'em stand taller, brush a little more mascara on (some blokes may...) until they realize it's that dodgy looking guy from the post room, or the woman who always seems wear the same cardigan, regardless of the weather.

For those who are single it's probably the worst day of their lives. Another reminder they're not with someone. That they're outstanding wit and charm ain't that attractive, that as much as they primp and preen, they still can't meet that special someone. A day they hate knowing that whilst some are being swept of their feet, they'll be popping into the local supermarket, picking up a meal for one and a magnum bottle of champagne to deaden the neglect. 

It's hard being single on Valentine's Day and it's a slap on the face watching those in a relationship buying a card. Some grabbing the first thing they see, others choosing with a lot of care, or those buying one only because they think it will score them brownie points (and a bit of 'ow's your father). In the recess of a singleton's mind are they secretly hoping a card is being bought for them? When I was single, I hated Valentines Day. I knew no one was going to send me a card or flowers. The day just sucked and I had to work...

February 14th is certainly not a day to buy a pack of cards and give them to all your friends in school. Does a first grader truly know about love? Some will argue it's an opportunity to celebrate the love of friendship. Great, wonderful, pick another day to acknowledge that  - Valentines Day is about fancying the pants of someone, not having to give a card to a kid who's nose just won't stop running. It's not a day to be inclusive.

I'll be the first one to admit that I've been taken in with the commercialism. The hopes of buying a cuddly teddy bear holding a heart, the heart shaped boxed of chocolates, the romantic songs. All of it. I still find some of things quite sweet...some...

Truth is, it's become too commercialized and expensive. Should a business make a profit on emotions?  And, that says it all really. Are we not exploiting love? Are we not making it an obligation to declare our love for someone on one particular day, when in fact, the declaration of love would be just as amazing if it happened on March 14 as it would February 14. 

Love is love - we don't need a day to show it, wax lyrical about it and/or to celebrate it. But...um, Happy Valentine's Day people...enjoy! Ahem...

Not Quite the Birthday Blues

 

 

As I celebrate my birthday, it is tinged with sadness.

 

Whilst I’m more than happy to spend the day with Hubby and the Little Miss, I can’t help but reflect that this is my first birthday without Dad and my third without Mum. Without fail I would get a card from them and a phone call.

I was tempted to get an old card out but realized that would just be silly. Yet, perhaps understandable? I don’t know.

Birthday’s growing up were always such fun for everyone in our home. When that special day arrived, they would come downstairs to find the living room filled with bunches of balloons and streamers. Mum started the tradition and it never stopped. The only changes were how many balloons were put up and where the banner would be placed.

One year we almost gave Mum a heart attack. It was her 50^th and my sister and I waited for her to come down, when she opened the door we pulled the string on a couple of poppers shouting ‘Happy Birthday!’ In her unique way of expressing things, she gasped, ‘she stupid girls, y’all almos’ kill’ me!’ but with a huge grin on her face.

As we got older, we would take over the inflating of the balloons and under Mum’s direction where to place them. Including Dad, who rarely showed he was happy to have these decorations, looked forward to seeing them – okay maybe that was me?

My desire to do anything creative soon took over as I made banners – a train for Dad one year, roses for Mum another – all with just the sheer pleasure of making my family happy.

So whilst I am a little sad, I know that I will certainly carry on this tradition. Hubby had a Batman theme and as soon as the little Miss’s birthday finished last year I was planning what theme to have for her third (birthday). I’m still thinking. At the moment she’s into Spiderman (I know…), Bubble Guppies and Octonauts. I’m thinking we’ll forgo the webbed wonder and combine the guppies and Captain Barnacles et al…they are, after all, under the sea…oh, The Little Mermaid – hmm…



Mum

As I enter the world of motherhood, I find myself missing Mum more and more - she was the one that I would have called and asked 'am I doing this right?' Having said that, when I had to asked Mum a question (some months ago) she responded, 'how old are you Shalini? Well, that's the last time I looked after a baby, I can't remember...' but that didn't stop her from passing on a few words of wisdom.

It's been a couple of months since I heard the phrase, 'Mum has died'. Three words I, perhaps naively, didn't think I'd hear for a very long time.

A calmness surrounded me when I heard. Yes tears were shed, but essentially I was calm. Did I think I would be hysterical, beat my chest wailing if and when I would hear the terrible news? Perhaps, but I'm rarely that demonstrative and the truth be known, I was more at peace with Mum going than I thought I would be. On that day, having been told that Mum had gone into hospital, I didn't panic or start to fret like I normally do but I simply said to myself, 'she's in your hands now God'.

So many ordinary things make me think of her and it's amazing that despite the tantrums I threw and the arguments we had, all I remember are the times we had a laugh, when we would just share a hug or work quietly together in the kitchen preparing dinner. As I think about how I will be as a mother, I hope to pass on a few things that Mum taught me such as how to treat other people, having faith, a good sense of humor - as well as my own little nuances...

Some people call their mum/dad their best friend, but I never saw mine like that, she was just Mum. And it would be easy to be upset at not being her best friend, but I'm proud to be just her daughter. She knew everything about me even when I said nothing. She knew what made me tick, how I would react to a situation. As I got older, got married, our conversations changed and she talked to me as a grown woman - but still as her youngest.

A stylish, hard working woman who could make the most delicate sugar-paste flower to wallpapering an entire room single-handed, what ever she turned her hand to, it worked. She had a great sense of fashion, loved her 'bling' (her middle name should have been Swarovski) and wherever Mum went, she made a friend and had a smile for a stranger.

So as I tend to my daughters needs, I'm both excited and sad. There have been many little things I know I would have called Mum to tell her about for me to hear how she would have handled it or her experiences with raising me, my brother and sister; it's very bittersweet.

But as Hubby said, our daughter wouldn't be here if it wasn't for Mum because she had me - so there's a little bit of her in our little girl. It's a comforting thought and I can't wait to tell our little one about her remarkable Grandma.