Folks, making a baby is a fairly simple process, all you need is the right plumbing, an eager accomplice, and a few minutes privacy to download your blended DNA’s into a little i-You 2.0
After that, things get a bit trickier.
Fortunately, women do the heavy lifting (literally) during pregnancy, because if we men were asked to go without booze for nine months, Australia’s birth rate would plummet faster than a stunned duck.
Historically, being a mother has never been easy. For eons, they’ve raised herds of children whilst fending off wild beast attacks (including their randy husbands), diseases and famines, plus the constant threat of conflict from aggressive forces (once again, their randy husbands).
So, if you’re here today, then it’s because someone took the time to nurture, feed, wash, clothe, educate and, hopefully, love you. For most of us, that was our mums. But, for many of you, my Mum included, it was someone else.
My grandmother died when Mum was two and I can only imagine how terrible it must have been for Grandma to hold her infant daughter while struggling to stay alive. Nobody wants to die before their children get to know them.
Plus, every Mothers’ Day, I feel for all the mums who have lost a child, and how heart-wrenching it must be for them to watch overly mushy Mothers’ Day commercials.
Obviously, I’m a real joy to be around when this mood hits me…
But, life isn’t all sunshine, roses and chocolates folks, and neither is motherhood. And I should know, I watched my mother, then my Long Suffering Wife, valiantly raising children, and they had assistance!
Granted, when Dad and I tried to pitch in, it was a bit like when the kids help you cook, we generally created more work and mess than usual.
So, Heaven help all the single mothers, the sick, poor, lonely and disabled mums. And if that’s you, then this column is my Mother’s Day gift to you. Like a badly drawn child’s card, it’s not much, but it comes straight from the heart.
Happy Mum’s Day!