Here’s what one mum really wants for Mother’s Day: Not flowers, spa vouchers or even breakfast in bed

It was the second Sunday of May, 7.24am. The bedroom door crashed open and two munchkins burst in, one precariously balancing a cup of coffee on a tray; the other clutching a handmade card, both screaming “Happy Mother’s Day!!” at the top of their lungs.

Awww, my babies, I thought groggily, trying my level best to look awake and delighted at my precious offspring’s enthusiastic display of love and affection.

“Mummy, drink your coffee!” screeched the older one, while the younger one shoved his card in my face.

Some “thank yous”, “I love yous” and hugs later, I managed to convince them to leave their offerings by my bedside and go outside to watch cartoons, while I snoozed for one hour more.

I eventually drank my cold coffee at 8.30am. It tasted sweet. It was a good Mother’s Day.

Ask any mum what they really, really want for Mother’s Day and you won’t get anything along the lines of flowers, jewellery or fancy dinners. Depending on the point they are at in this long, meandering and difficult journey called motherhood, you will get vastly different answers.

For new mums, their greatest wish would 100 per cent be more than four hours of uninterrupted sleep. Toddler mamas would love to be able to pee in peace without whiny faces peeping at them.

For those with pre-schoolers, it would be a bottle of patience pills, to be popped when their kids challenge them, which would be every five minutes (no, these pills don’t exist but they should).

As a mother to a primary schooler, I wish for a homework robot, adept at helping the kid do his Math word problems and learn his spelling in record time – this would spare me an infinite amount of angst.

I also need a mood meter to suss out the emotional status of my secondary school tween – is this not a good time to talk to her ’cos she’s being mopey? Okay noted.

And I can imagine that mums of grown-up kids would love to see their children more, to be pestered for love like when their babies were little, to be able to wrestle some attention away from their phones and their friends, and to be the centre of their world once again.

And that’s the real reason it’s so hard to buy a Mother’s Day gift for a mum. What her heart truly desires are likely not things you can easily pay for and cart out. She wants to be seen, to be appreciated, to have more rest, to be recognised for all that she juggles and achieves, to feel beautiful, to have more time for herself.

But if someone insists on buying actual gifts for me (hint, hint, father of my children), and if my kids read this, these are the things this mama would not mind at all this Mother’s Day.

#1: A RIDICULOUSLY EXPENSIVE COFFEE MACHINE

This is a fantasy gift registry, right? I would like an upgrade on my current coffee machine, preferably a shiny behemoth with many parts that will take up half my kitchen countertop, from a brand fronted by a Hollywood A-list actor, with coffee beans ingested and regurgitated/pooped out by some exotic animal.

I mean, a hardworking, sleep-deprived mum needs all the Grade A caffeine she can get, so she can mum better.

#2: A DAY WHERE NO ONE TALKS TO ME

I love the kiddos, but I tire of my own naggy voice sometimes. So give me one day with just the voices in my head, please. Any requests, go and ask your father.

#3: THE DYSON AIRSTRAIT

This gadget claims to reduce time spent drying and straightening hair by 25 per cent, simplifying my routine, leaving me with more time to watch K-drama way past the wee hours and enabling my revenge bedtime procrastination habit. Sold. 

#4: DOING A GROWN-UP ACTIVITY WITH MY KIDS

I’ve been glowing down for years, going to kiddie plays, ball pits and Paw Patrol movies with the mini-mes. It’s time they glowed up and did something with me that I like, and not complain about it.

I’m thinking… contemporary art museum date, a weepy film about terminally-ill middle-aged people in love or the concert of my favourite ’90s boy band (with no comments that they dance like uncles and how could I possibly have liked them).

#5: A PERSONALISED PHOTO BOOK

Please note that only photos where I look beautiful shall be used and printed for posterity, and all titles and captions have to endlessly praise my mothering skills and stellar personality. 

#6: A NIGHT OF PUTTING ONLY MYSELF TO BED

How many times have you put one of your kids to bed, only to fall asleep yourself, then wake up feeling disoriented and totally unable to go to bed until 2am? Yup. Let the father take over once in a while. It’s only fair. 

#7: ONE OF THOSE VIRAL K-BEAUTY ANTI-AGEING SKIN BRIGHTENING DEVICES

When you reach the age where face creams alone aren’t really cutting it anymore, but you’re too too scared of invasive procedures and needles, it’d be nice to own a high tech skin-lifting, wrinkle-busting, pigmentation-banishing gadget which can work just a little bit of anti-ageing magic. 

#8: A FLOWERING PLANT

No bouquets that won’t live beyond Mother’s Day, please, no matter how pretty (and expensive). My daughter gifted me with a pot of orchids two Mother’s Days ago, and this miracle plant is still flowering, despite my black thumb. It makes me feel ultra nurturing and capable of helping things thrive. Morale boosts are always good.

#9: A BREAKFAST SUBSCRIPTION

We’re not talking about nutritious sandwiches or bento boxes for the kids, but luxurious acai bowls and pulled pork tacos for mum, delivered fresh every morning.

Mother needs a power kickstart to her day too, if she’s expected to do her best. Does this particular service exist? Well, if it doesn't, it should. Just like patience pills.

#10: COFFEE AND HUGS IN BED ON MOTHER’S DAY, BUT ONLY AFTER 8AM

Despite what I said at the start of this piece, I love being woken up on the second Sunday of May by my kids loudly proclaiming their love for me. I love amateurishly-made peanut butter sandwiches, diluted cold coffee and Mother’s Day cards with stick figures and misshapen hearts. It makes me feel seen, appreciated and beautiful. As long as I can go back to bed after.