We've got my nieces for the weekend again, and yesterday my sister and I took #1 and #2 to the theatre while DH and BIL looked after #3. #1 had been to the theatre once before, and it was #2's first time. The play was a musical which they're familiar with on DVD, and they were spellbound. We had excellent seats, at the front of the banked seating with a walkway in front of us. Booster seats were provided for the children, and they were thrilled when at one point the entire cast trooped off the stage and walked across directly in front of us as they sang one of their numbers. #2 almost fell off her seat with excitement, and didn't seem to mind that when she waved shyly at the lead couple as they passed us, they didn't wave back!
We arrived home to find that #3 had her shoes and coat on and was standing expectantly by the front door - as she had been apparently for some time. She refused to let anyone unzip her coat, and stayed there looking expectant, so I took her out of the front door, round the side of the house and back in through the back door - following which she was satisfied that she'd had an outing, and allowed me to take her shoes and coat off her.
Today is Mothering Sunday and last week was BIL's birthday, so I'm not sure which of them was treating and which was being treated last night, but hopefully they enjoyed their date night. This morning I'll get the children to make Mother's Day pictures for my sister before we go to church and then take them home for a celebratory lunch.
So I'll be herding small children during Mass and won't experience quite so acutely that empty feeling that you get when special prayers are said for mothers and small children are given daffodils to hand over to their mothers, and maybe make special cards and pictures during the children's liturgy. But wouldn't it be wonderful if in a few years' time it was my own children clutching those daffodils in their sticky little hands, and if I was the recipient...?