Hands up who likes ironing? Hmmm. Not many! I hate it. I hate the fact that you can spend hours over it today and in a couple of days time, another pile will be waiting for you. But this picture is one pile of ironing that I don't mind at all, in fact I enjoyed doing it. Because this pile of clothes belongs to my son and the fact they are on the ironing board means that he is home from Uni for a couple of days.
It's weird how something this simple brings out the maternal instinct in me. My son is home. He needs fresh, home cooked food. He needs clean clothes. He needs those clothes washed, dried and ironed. In other words - he needs me. Things that I took for granted as the kids were growing up suddenly take on a new view when they don't have to be done any more.
Our instructions for having kids sound simple. Feed them. Keep them warm. Keep them clean. Look after them and keep them safe. Give them the right amount of freedom at the right point of their growing up to be confident, independent people in their own right. And that's where it gets harder. Because meeting that last part means weaning them off of needing us so much. It means teaching them to stand on their own two feet and go out into the world. Learning how to cope and overcome difficulties on their own in the knowledge that there is unconditional love and support whenever it is needed.
So whilst I hate ironing - I love the fact that this particular boy has brought this particular pile of work for me to do because for just a small period of time again, he needs me to do it for him.