I was awake at 7.30am. Eldest had phoned from the airport to wish me a happy Mothers Day. That was the highlight of my day. The card he’d left for me was ruined when youngest had a meltdown. He’d thrown coffee across my room & my card had gotten in the way. I couldn’t help myself, I went out into my hall, sat on my stairs & I cried. He’d just smashed one of my lamps. Mirrored glass was all over my floor. Dependable Jack came in & cleaned it up. Okay so I am going to type that sometimes, just sometimes I feel like I can’t take any more. I have no more to give. I know I’m feeling sorry for myself. Actually it’s more hurt than sorry. Would it kill my children to just buy a card. Even if one of my teenagers had bought one I’d have appreciated it. I assume they’re waiting until I die before they bring my flowers & wail about how much they miss me. Typically it’ll be to little to late.