In celebration of Mother’s Day, ‘A Day in the Life of a La Salle Mum‘ is a beautiful reflection from one of our P&F Committee members of the joy and strength we find when we show up for our kids – even when life is busy and messy.
Cold mornings at La Salle always seem to begin the same way. Me, attempting to wake four sleeping children who appear to have entered a state of deep hibernation. Before I’ve even had a sip of coffee, the requests start rolling in.
“Mum, I need snacks for a class party.”
“Mum, I need green zinc, hairspray and ribbons for the swim carnival.”
“Mum, I have band at 7:20 tomorrow.”
Every day feels like a lucky dip of last-minute needs. It makes me think back to my own school days, when “International Children’s Day” meant my Singaporean mum frying a pack of prawn crackers, and fundraisers involved selling lamingtons and vegemite sandwich days, which I loved because I could finally eat white bread, as mum only ever bought wholemeal.
Life felt simpler, but the heart of it was the same: caregivers showing up in whatever way they could.
My mum was a single parent working part time, then full time. Some days she had prawn cracker energy; other days she was the mum who came on school camp because I was nervous and needed her there. Her capacity wasn’t always the same each day, but she still showed up, and that’s what I remember and what was meaningful to me.
It amazes me that I can recall every detail of those childhood moments, yet these days I regularly walk into a room and forget why I’m there. But I guess my point is that the little things stick. Our kids won’t remember whether we were perfectly organised; they’ll remember that we showed up in whatever capacity we had that day.
These days, my house feels like it contains fifteen children, even though only four are mine. Friends from primary school, high school, and new friends whose names I’m still learning. I walk into a room to talk to one child and discover an entire audience listening through a screen.
“Hi,” I say. “Make sure it’s homework before games.” “Hi Mum, yes Mum,” a chorus replies.
It’s different from the 80s and 90s when we were out riding bikes or bringing friends home on the bus for homework sessions back in the “ancient times,” as my kids like to remind me. The same kids who seem to think I grew up with horse and carts and have never heard of a video or cassette tape. These days, friendships happen through group chats, video calls, and shared online homework. But the laughter, the pep talks, and the sense of belonging are the same.
Life is full. My head is full. It feels like these kids were babies five minutes ago. These years are everything, even when they’re chaotic.
One of the things I treasure most about being a La Salle caregiver is the community. Families sharing uniforms, food, lifts, advice, and support. Kids coming home raving about the best food they’ve eaten at a friend’s house, dishes from cultures all across our school community. The richness of that diversity is something I’m grateful for every day.
I think of the friendships formed in carparks, assemblies, P&F meetings, and the caregivers I still message even though our kids have graduated. Some connections last a lifetime. I think of the families walking the post school journey together, sharing contacts, ideas, and encouragement. We hold each other up.
I think of the La Salle staff who show up for our kids and for us especially on the days when our capacity is zero. They hold space for us until we can breathe again.
So yes, life is busy. Our heads are full. But I’m grateful for the mess, the noise, the extra kids who treat my home like their own, the caregivers who treat my kids like theirs, and the community that surrounds us.
To all of you amazing families and caregivers, this is your reminder that you are doing wonderfully, showing up for your kids on all the days in all the ways with whatever capacity the day brings.
To La Salle College thank you for the support, the community, and the heart. The years move quickly, but the connections stay.
