My mother's day

What a lovely mother's day! Lovely gifts, lovely food, lovely company. Can't remember enjoying a mother's day more. Plenty of food for thought, though. Had dinner with two lovely friends, one of whom I hadn't seen for 15 years, last night. They are about my age (give or take), neither is married, neither has children, although one is contemplating both,  she's not sure in what order. The other wonders if it has all passed her by. She said she woke up on a birthday recently with the dawning revelation: how did she not get married and have children?
It certainly wasn't a deliberate decision. It was not a matter of choosing career or travel or adventure over marriage and children, and there had been relationships. Just not the right one.
She asked me, as I droned on about the adventure that is being a parent of teens, whether I had actually enjoyed motherhood along the way (she remembers me being quite ambivalent to both marriage and children in the early days). I had to stop and think. Had I enjoyed motherhood?
I said once to another friend (who managed to write it down despite the amount of wine we had consumed) who also is unmarried and without children, again because of circumstance rather than choice, that children open your eyes and break your heart. It is a wild ride. But I can't imagine an alternative. My children are 12 and 16, and what amazing young people they are. Spirited, smart, gorgeous, independent, yet still very much my babies. As if scripted, Lydia found some old photos this morning of a time when we lived at a previous house (when I was thin and blond - there are bikini shots!) when they had wide smiles filled with baby teeth. There were beach holidays with cousins, Lydi's first day of school, with great big hat and great big bag and great big smile. Gabe in his Bob the Builder overalls with his collection of tools. He wore his safety goggles for days on end, his little ears turning over under the straps. We had lunch with my mum, and afternoon tea with Stefan's mum. Plus our extended families. It was a lovely day, when the really important things take priority. On some mother's days I've almost begrudged having to traipse around after others, wishing instead I could stay home and spend my mother's day I pleased. But pleased I was today, travelling to see the people that are nearest and dearest. I quote my friend, the one contemplating marriage and babies. (Her partner is keener on the second than the first). So why does he want a baby? I asked her. After the slightest pause, she said: Because that's what life is about.