To be honest, I wasn't really looking forward to Mother's Day.
My first as a single Mum, I was pretty sure the traditionally hyped-up day of the year would pretty much, well, suck.
But I hadn't counted on my awesome kids.
Miss 7 woke me with a kiss and a cuddle, and Hannah our kitten deposited unceremoniously on my head.
She - Miss 7 - was able to wait for, oh, about five minutes before waking her big brother so the fun could begin.
I was ordered to stay in bed, while a rather scary cacophony of clattering and banging began in my kitchen.
I tried really hard to concentrate on my book - Nicky Pellegrino's delicious Recipe For Life, which I'll post about another time - while Mr 9 periodically sent his sister in to check on me.
Pretty soon, this appeared by my bedside ...
A skim-milk cappacino, so sweet the spoon could have stood upright in it, complete with a swirl of whipped cream for good measure, and a Milky Way on the side.
That was followed by a cheese and ham omelette, with fried potato, leftover chicken schnitzel, (!) and sour cream (!!) Mr 9 ate the chocolate, and Miss 7 ate most of the egg, but it was the thought that counted.
This is how the kitchen looked AFTER the kids' amazing culinary efforts!
Then it was time to look at drawings and cards...
And gifts. A heart charm for my handbag from Mr 9: ("So you can carry my heart with me everywhere," he said proudly. Aww...)
My presents...courtesy of the school Mother's Day stall. Tea and biscuits from Mr 9; and from Miss 7, a beach towel (because I spend SO much time on the beach these days) and an overnight bag (European, so it must be good. Mind you, the bag is supposed to be for the kitten, so she can be a Handbag Cat!)
In all, it was a pretty magical Mother's Day ... well, at least until it was time to clean the kitchen!
I was shortlisted for Escape Travel's Back Yard Blogger Competition
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I'm a writer, author, journalist, blogger, and mum. I love my kids, hate housework, and would rather chew my arm off than supervise homework. Picker-upper of toys and pet poo; finder of lost things; and curser of the Sock Monster. When I grow up, I want a pony.