Is it just me or is Mother's Day getting better as I age? Is this a natural phenomena that occurs as your children age? Am I more relaxed about the state of the kitchen after the 'We'll get breakfast for you" attempts?
Maybe it's the fact that the words hand written on her painstakeningly crafted card are more legible this year. It could be the fact that I actually don't mind sweetly scented gifts and homemade picture frames. Or was it because my plan to get out of the house and therefore divorce myself completely from the temptation to 'just finish this job...' went off like a charm, that my Mother's Day was so memorable?
It could have been the biting mountain air, the dazzling mosaic of auburn and amber autumn leaves, or the sublime buttery sunshine that filled my day with magic.
Personally, I think it was simply hearing, "Happy Mother's Day Mummy" repeatedly delivered by the very person who qualified me to enjoy it all in the first place.