This mother's day I am holding the line on my position that it is me who should be thanking my children and not the other way around.
Think of all the laughs I would have missed, the extra sleep I would have had, and most of all, all the growing up I myself would have not done.
It has also occurred to me that sewing is a big part of my memories of raising my children.
To my oldest, my daughter who was once toasted by her matron of honour at her wedding "as a girl who really loved her mother - look at all the weird home-made outfits she wore to school."
This is also the same daughter who made me a scissors case, hand-stitched, to take to sewing classes so I wouldn't miss her.
And the same daughter who now sews too and told me that last week, when happily shopping for fabric, realized she had one child exhausted and asleep in the stroller, and the other laying on the floor in the middle of an aisle, eating snacks to keep herself busy.
"I suddenly realized I had become my mother."
I think too of my youngest son who used to help me by cleaning out my serger lint with Q-tips - no one did a slicker job, before every project, and who used to sit cross-legged behind my machine on the table sewing on buttons on clothes for his bear. He was also the one who got 100% in family studies for a perfectly sewn pair of shorts.
And of course I am thinking today too of my middle son. He always has some mending, alterations, or button sewing himself for me to do, every visit home and every time I visit him. Whenever he tells me, "Mom when you come down to New York can you bring some needles and thread I have stuff I need you to do for me" I know both that he is partially humouring me, and equally that it works.
He is also the kid, my real busy kid, who wouldn't leave some major project in the backyard when I wanted him to come in to shop for back-to-school clothes, but just shouted back to me at the kitchen window, "I am too busy, just take my measurements."
Happy mother's day.