ok guys   hope you are prepared...

the girls need a bit of spoiling after all this...

I wish all the MUMs  a happy day..

always someone thinks like that

your wife took over where your mother left off..

bet you have never washed your own smelly socks.

freediver wrote on May 4^th, 2020 at 9:58pm:



Yes, we do !         






02 min
https://youtu.be/-_kXIGvB1uU

Jasin wrote on May 4^th, 2020 at 10:08pm:


Geez you had it good.

I lived out back of my mother and father's place, most of my life, in a little ol' shed that my daddy built for me. They didn't too much want me up there in the house with the rest of'em. So mostly I just sat around out there in the shed lookin' at the ground. I didn't have no floor out there but I had me a hole dug out to lay down in. 'Quilt or two to put down there. Mmm-hmm. My father was a hard working man most of his life, not that I can say the same for myself. I mostly just sat around out there in the shed, tinkering around with a lawn mower or two.

My first year without my mother

Can I say, it wouldn’t matter what physical conditions of how one lived, as long as there was love and support.
But when there isn’t, makes any living condition void of comfort.

I gave my children (a boy and a girl) something my mother never gave me....love.

I yearned it so much, that once I had my babies, it healed that void, that ‘emptyness’.

I never understood it until that time.
Then it started to dawn on me how much molly coddling my younger brother had, but I expected it was because he was a lot younger than me and that I was meant to be more grown up.
There is 5.2 years age difference.
Trouble is, he never grew up. He had been and still is “mommy’s boy” and he is an absolute selfish, self important, with an huge sense of entitlement prick.
He was the one that caused jealous divisiveness in the family.
He wins.
I wanted togetherness, forgiveness, support and love.
I lost.

Before I read this thread, I was actually talking out to mum saying how f ked up it all is, asking if she is happy now seeing all this?
And I cry a little.

I do feel sorry for her and what she went through in life, but that does not excuse her misogyny (big word I only learnt a few years ago) towards me.

A couple years before she passed, I asked her, why I was to walk alone to school? (Age 6-8). She said she would watch me go up the road.
Strange that. I think if I had been abducted quickly from side of road, how fast could she get there to protect me?

I nearly was abducted. Age 7.5. (1961) Walking along, alone, etc  from Westgarth Central School towards Northcote, desolate railroad track on one side, houses on another. A slimy looking ‘boogeyman’ (as I thought of strangers) in a grey panel van with no windows, looked smiled and winked at me.(I still remember what he looks like to this day!)
I felt instinctive distrust. I kept my eye on him going up the road, then turning his car around coming towards me. Fear grew in me then!
Because of the first half of life I lived in country, and knew no boundary, I sprinted as fast as I could, feeling absolute fear, taking shortcuts up  alleyways, through people’s back yards and onto a different road direction towards a corner PO.
I went into that PO. Stood there, and a woman cane out, saw it was ‘just a kid’ and went to back of shop. I went under the counter, sat there, keeping my eye on the entry, and ready to bolt towards back of shop.

My instincts are my saviour. I looked after me. No adult did.
Kid world. Alone world. Misunderstood world. Uncaring world.

Every time I walked to and from school I was scared he would come back, I was always watching out. Six months later at age 8 there was a for sale sign on front of my home. I remember feeling happy we were leaving that area.

Paedophiles were probably rife in those days with kids for the pickings.
I did see from my front bedroom window a boy, I didn’t recognise him from my area, standing across the road near the railway overhead walkway.
Wondering what he was doing there!
He was heaving and crying and his clothes were all messy.

I saw a car pull over near him.
A beautiful elegant looking woman in a lovely black stylish dress, got out of the car, gently stooping down to talk to him, and looking around puzzled.

I felt she wanted to help him, after a while, that boy (looked about 6-7 yrs of age) trusted that elegant gentle lady and went in the car.

I felt relieved that “lost boy” would be okay and go home.
(They probably took him to police station).

So there you have it.
I was lucky I was a little Tarzan that mistrusted people.
I grew up first 4 years of my life living isolated on a farm with animals as my companions.
They taught me a certain “instinct” of survival.

By the way, I never allowed my children to walk anywhere, I took them by car everywhere!
That paranoia of a near miss being abducted, made me a very protective mum!

A song for all you that have come through your own struggles 👍

The oldest kid is always the Father's kid.
The youngest kid is always the Mother's kid.
The kid in the middle is given to the People.

Vic wrote on May 5^th, 2020 at 9:39am:


Bogans: The 'good' poor of Melbourne ridiculed by the 'evil' Rich of Melbourne.

Housos: The 'evil' poor of Sydney that ridicule the 'good' Rich of Sydney.

I am trying to ignore mothers day - too soon

Spot

cods wrote on May 5^th, 2020 at 10:16am:


She died friday morning

Spot

My first Mothers Day without my Mum too.

She died last September. (Got to 99)

Captain Nemo wrote on May 5^th, 2020 at 11:02am:



Sorry Captain, mine died some years ago and whilst we had a "turbulent" relationship over the years, I still miss her.    My Sister was silently fleecing Mum of her savings and when it all came to light, she just couldn't take it anymore and went rapidly downhill, passing away 10 months later.   She would have been 94 on Anzac Day.

Thanks for those kind thoughts Cods; Vic and Spot.

Sorry for your loss too Spot.

My Mum had an interesting life.

Survived the Blitz (was born in Fulham London 1920)

Was one of the two typists for Churchill in the later stages of WWII

Lost her first husband very young, he was a crew member on a Wellington bomber or Lancaster (I forget which one).

Married 3 times.

6 children.

10 pound Pom.

My mother was a scientist in the days when women werent scientists. They got her to make the tea and coffee most of the time and she never got credit. It was how it was in those days i guess. Still is sometimes i think. She wrote and published a book when she was 90 and was working on a sequel when she died. I was going to finish it for her (from her notes) but drama happened and someone took all the files and papers etc. She would have been 92 this month.

Spot

Yep, the older generation really knew about hard times.

We have been very lucky in comparison.

Sir Spot of Borg wrote on May 5^th, 2020 at 10:19am:


Very sorry to hear that Spot!

sometimes I think its a wake up call to remind us to be kind to each other...it isnt until you become a mum you realise what hard work it is..... forever   even when you marry them off  your job isnt finished.....

in my case very worthwhile though  I cannot whinge.. happy day mums

cods wrote on May 4^th, 2020 at 4:50pm:


I gave myself a scare by thinking that Mick Molloy's claim that Mother's Day was on last Sunday (just gone). I found that it is this Sunday coming. Mum would not have been happy about having not got a phone call from me. Or a visit.

Setanta wrote on May 6^th, 2020 at 3:07pm:




we always gave flowers....always always  then suddenly it changed     and we got sucked in I am afraid..its a bit like an ambush  we are just sitting waiting to be had....

you know your lovely partner  I think most mums enjoy the flowers..

Setanta wrote on May 6^th, 2020 at 3:07pm:


A nice big Stick to beat the rugs of dust.

Jasin wrote on May 9^th, 2020 at 2:05pm:


Great idea Jasin! I can even carve "Happy Mother's Day - 2020" on it.