Someone pointed out to me that today is my 19th Mothers Day. That's a lot of them. But with an 18yo and a 16yo, it sounds about right.
We celebrated quietly today, with some presents after church (DVDs, chocolate, bedsocks and bookmarks) and a delicious steak dinner cooked by Steve. Just now we've watched an old Doris Day film before the girls headed to bed.
The 19th time round doesn't feel so special as the first 10 or so Mothers Days did. I mean, at first you're so thrilled to be a mum, and to have a fuss made about you, and then in the primary school years your children are so excited to be giving you their cute little handmade gifts. (I should say that Emily still made me a cute gift, a beautiful felt bookmark stitched with a bird, made with as much love as those early craft attempts but much more skill!)
But by now things have changed - the girls have their own lives, we're all busy with studying, and those family times are fewer and farther between. I was glad to pin everyone down for lunch together, and it was sweet of them to spoil me with some nice gifts. One day the girls will be gone, and I'll be like our mothers, waiting for the phone to ring and for the children to visit. Which sounds kind of depressing.
I guess I'm still getting used to having almost-grownup girls. Memories of those cute little girls with their school Mothers Day crafts are fading, and sometimes it kind of feels like some other girls have moved in, instead.