Well, here we are again. Motherisms on Mothering Sunday I hear you chortle. How apt of you Jade.
It is rather isn’t it.
Today is a day we should all be thinking about our mothers, be they passed or still alive and worrying. It’s also a day we should be thinking about any of our friends or family who have become mothers, you are incredible, I admire you beyond words. But because words make up this page, on this hallowed, hallmark day I have selected a few words from some lexical dons to help me describe mothers ….
“Only mothers can think of the future – because they give birth to it in their children. “
“All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does. That’s his.”
“We criticize mothers for closeness. We criticize fathers for distance. How many of us have expected less from our fathers and appreciated what they gave us more? How many of us always let them off the hook?”
“Mothers are fonder than fathers of their children because they are more certain they are their own.”
“Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.”
“Mothers are all slightly insane.”
I know which one I agree with.
Mothers are a testament to men and women, to loving when sanity would have intervened way before. They are stronger than any man I know (except Chuck Norris) and will risk their life to save yours. We are all guilty of neglecting our mothers from time to time, allowing them to support us, when really it should have been the other way around but make sure that you do not do that today. Life is short, this includes your mothers, make sure she knows you’re thinking of her.
So, let’s all pat ourselves on the backs for being good mothers and children, make a cup of tea and snuggle down to read some examples from another lexical don, my mother. Here are two days worth of her quips – which are all, slightly insane ….
We are in the car, my mum is congratulating me on my writing, I am whinging, she dishes out words of encouragement. ….
Mum: This is how Sylvia Plath started.
Me: Yeah but did she make any money?
Mum: She killed herself.
Part of the fridge falls off …
Mum: Oh great, I’d been waiting for that bit to come of since you broke it at Christmas. When I make some money I’ll buy a new fridge, a new washing machine. In the mean time I rather enjoy living in squalor. Very down with the people, we’re all in it together. Though I don’t really get that feeling ….
Talking about going to Cambridge and watching a film …
Mum: Didn’t we watch that in Cambridge?
Me: Watch what?
Mum: That film about Hugh Heffner?
Me: Um … I don’t think that was me.
Mum: No! No! Sorry, Howard Hughs. Different guy.
Mum is leaning on the windowsill watching cars go over the new bridge ..
Look at all those people zipping backwards and forwards over that thing. Going nowhere.
Mum puts the cheese away without offering me any.
Me: Can I not have some?
Mum: Yes sorry Darling. I’ve been living alone so long I’ve …
Me: Forgotten common courtesies?
Mum: Yeah, pretty much.
Mum does (of course) trump my wisdom tooth story …
I had my wisdom teeth out while Ringo Stars surgeon did my knees. My face swelled to an enormous size. My vanity took a real blow. And then the Sharon Tate murders happened. I got very depressed.
Mum and I are both holding pens.
You have a pen, I have a pen.
Mum talking about all the Syd Barrett stuff that’s going on at the moment …
I think it’s all very strange, Syd would’ve run a mile. But it’s good. This is how we’ll make our money, out my memories. When I’m dead you can publish all this stuff. People like the past. They know what happens.
My mother talking about various people …
You know, they say the hardest thing to get over’s a good childhood.
Mum shouts form the other room …
Mum: Scientists have genetically modify cows that can produces human breast milk.
Me: Oh my God, that’s not good.
Mum: Very little is.
Mum is reading while half listening to the TV, she mishears …
TV: The Paralympics next week on Four
Mum: Oh is that that comedy thing? That was quite funny.
I’ve scolded mum for getting worked up about nothing …
Mum: I have impotent rage, but Barnaby tells me it will dissolve into passive cynicism.
Me: Way ahead of you mum.
Mum: That’s a bit worrying.
Mum and I reveling in Ferrero Rocher …
Mum: They’re absolutely disgusting little things, but at least I know what’s in them.
Me: I think they’re wonderful.
Mum: Oh, I love them!
Mum talking about me getting my act together ..
Mum: Yes, but you’re very punctual.
Me: I’m not punctual.
Mum: You’re going to have to be punctual.
Mother giving some delicious advice …
This romantic melancholy is all well and good, but it doesn’t butter the parsnips.
I love you ever so much mum. Enjoy those daffodils while you can – next door will probably want them back ……