I remember making Easter bonnets as a kid, and I have a few faint memories of Easter bonnet parades. A couple of weeks ago, M's school invited parents to a little crafting session to create Easter hats for the kids. They assigned Year 7 buddies to the kids whose parents were not able to make it. The day before the hat making session was the school cross country day and I had a guilt trip going on that day. I couldn't be there for both activities and I knew M would appreciate the one on one crafting session a little more. I spoke to M about it in the lead up to the cross country day, and she seemed quite cool with it. "That's OK Mum, you'll come to the Easter hat day, won't you?". And then... as she kissed me for the last time that morning and the little line of kids was moving through the classroom door, she said "Mummy, why can't you stay for the running?". Oh, the sadness. The guilt.
After all this, on Easter hat making morning, she did say to me that she wished she could have one of the Year 7 buddies!
I raided our craft box for ribbons, butterflies, felt and pink shredded paper (from last Easter!) and bought a few things (feathers, baby chickens and pompoms) at the $2 shop. After a little thought, I also bought a $2.80 straw hat as a base, because I couldn't face actually making the hat part. Is that cheating?!
I went crazy with the stapler, M decided on all the positioning and then she went all out with a glitter pen. Doesn't she look sweet? There was so many gorgeous creations and the kids were having a great time. I was glad to be there, glad to have some flexibility with work. It's so hard being a mum who works. These moments in time are so precious but it can be a fight to make them happen.
Fast forward, and it was time to attend the Easter parade. It was held on the last day of school, a Friday, so both O and I headed over to the big new hall after we dropped M at her classroom. O was rambling on and on about the songs that M was going to sing, he was sure that they were songs about monsters, and could we please go home? He was happy enough, so when he buried his head in my chest and burst in to tears as the music started, I was surprised. Not shocked, because after all, I am the Mum who has always had crying, sobbing kids at every Christmas concert or event. I'm used to it. I was beginning to wonder if I was going to have to leave my seat and take him out, but a little box of chocolate teddies seemed to sort him out. I managed to turn him around to face the stage and then he was entranced. Loved the cute songs and the actions. M has changed, she's not the sobbing kid any more, she's completely in to it, loving it and smiling wide. Love that.
She's growing up.