In
Australia,
an "X" means a kiss,
and an "O" means a hug.
So, if you received a letter saying "I love you. xxoo"
it would mean
"I love you.
Kiss, kiss. Hug, hug."
One plate washed. Another plate stacked. Fork, spoon, spoon. Hmmm … I must remember to send that letter today … Plastic cup, coffee cup … the car needs a service too …
“Mummy, come and see,” my daughter squeals. “Come and see.”
Her small fingers tug eagerly at my t-shirt. She sees my dripping hands and passes a tea-towel. In her five short years, she has learnt to anticipate my responses. Her many siblings also understand. Elsewhere in the house, they amuse each other with computer screens, dolls and
Lego blocks.
How can I resist that pleased grin? She spins about waiting for me to dry off. I follow her excited dance down the hallway and I smile at her enthusiasm.
“Close your eyes Mummy.”
I find myself holding my breath too. She drags me awkwardly around the corner. I trip on an abandoned shoe but her joy engulfs me and I laugh.
My jaw drops. I can’t believe what she’s done. They’re everywhere. All over the walls, floor, bed and windows.
“Look at what I did,” my little girl bursts with pride.
I gape at the sheets of paper covering every spare space. Each piece has squiggles of
colour on it. I notice my computer paper packaging, lying torn open and empty.
She prances over to one piece stuck to the recently painted wall. “This is the best one.”
I swallow hard to contain my annoyance. I tentatively step over to see. I have seen drawings similar to these before but this one shows obvious signs of effort. My lip quivers. I bend down, pick her up and hold her close. Her fingers point and she speaks in excited tones in my ear. I can’t hear her though. I can only stare at the childish
markings ...
There’s one large, lopsided love heart. Inside, two girls, with pink triangle dresses, hold hands with stick fingers. Each has two hairs sprouting from the tops of their heads. The hairs curve downwards, flick up at the ends, and have purple blotches for bows. Along the bottom are the simple
words, "I LOVE MUMMY XXX"
I tenderly put her down, and sit on the floor beside her. I pick up the red crayon and turn one of the pieces of paper over. I draw a primitive house with tiny flowers near it. She adds jagged lines of grass and a sparse tree. I ignore the mess, and the dishes can wait. This is one of those definitive moments of motherhood. I feel dizzy with the realisation of success. That one picture from my sweet little girl is all I the confirmation I need.
The
Writer - Sandra Saunders
I am a happily married mother of three busy, young children. In an average suburb of Melbourne, I often ponder reality and fantasy. Writing helps me to express feelings, aspirations and revelations. I strive for contentment and success, and as the years pass, I am realising that these come in all facets. My life is busy yet relaxed, fulfilling yet wanting. I am proud of where I have come from and the direction I am going.
Reviews
(applause received)
Lorelle
Molloy Australia
I know Sandra personally and often she will run some of her writings past myself and others at her child's pre-school. She is wonderfully talented and this particular piece had me rolling my eyes in acknowledgement to tears in my eyes at recognition at the end of the piece. I think Sandra knows how to put into words what all Mothers know and feel and it takes a talented person to be able to do that.
