I'm going to be honest — when we came up with the Mami & Me Mother's Day set, part of me was thinking about all the other mums who would order it.
The adult meal, the kids' meal, the little loaf cake that comes with toppings for the kids to decorate and present to their mum. I pictured it going really well. Kids being cute. Mums feeling appreciated. A nice moment in the café.
What I didn't fully clock was that I would be one of those mums.
So this Mother's Day, I ordered the set.
And I sat there and watched Jordan — my little boy, still very much in the I'm figuring out how my hands work stage of life — sit in front of a small loaf cake with a bowl of blueberries, edible flowers, rice chocolates, chocolate chips, and a few paper picks on sticks.
He had full creative control.
I had no say.
It was, objectively, chaos.
He was clumsy. Focused in that very specific toddler way where the task at hand is the most serious thing in the world. He placed the blueberries. He picked the yellow edible flower. He snuck a blueberry into his mouth while decorating — because of course he did. And then he poured in all the chocolate chips and rice chocolates, and I said okay, all done!
He turned and looked at me with the proudest smile.
That was the moment.
I've received a lot of gifts in my life. Thoughtful ones, pretty ones, expensive ones.
But this was the first cake my son ever made me. Decorated with slightly lopsided blueberries, a few yellow edible flowers, and a little stick that said I love you. It was simple. It was wobbly. It was one of the most special things I've been given since he was born.
I didn't cry. But I wanted to. Mostly I just sat there trying to absorb the moment before it passed — because these things go fast, and you don't always know in advance which ones are going to stay with you.
This one's staying with me.
That's actually why we designed the set the way we did.
We could have just made it a nice meal with a cake. A pretty slice, boxed up, done. But we kept thinking — what if the cake came from the child? What if mum received something that her kid's hands actually touched?
Because a little one decorating a cake for you is not about the cake. It's about the little one. The concentration on his face. The choosing. The presenting. The pride when you say I love it.
That's the gift. The loaf cake is just where it lives.
So if you missed it this year — we hope to do it again.
And if you were one of the mums who came in and got your cake decorated by your little one, I hope you felt exactly what I felt.
A little overwhelmed. A little grateful. And maybe slightly covered in chocolate chips.
Happy Mother's Day 2026. 🌸
Ru
Co-founder, Naru Play Café
To every mum who got a slightly lopsided cake this year — it was the best one.