Baby Blog: Why I’m Making Mother’s Day Extra Special For My Own Mum

"If there is a Mother’s Day then there should definitely be a children day, that’s only fair," I remember saying to my mum every spring just before Mother’s Day.

"Every day is children’s day," she would always patiently reply - much to my confusion.

Now, with my first Mother’s Day here I finally know exactly what she meant.

In fact, I’d like to take this opportunity to apologise to my mother for my annual comment and promise a truckload of compensatory Mother’s Day flowers.

I was young, I was naïve and I’m sorry.

I am now of the opinion she shouldn’t just have a measly day – she should have a week. They should close down Chessington World Of Adventures for her and lend her Champneys until further notice. She needs indefinite ‘me-time’ and fast.

Newfound Respect
Since having a baby I suddenly feel a new found respect for my own mum. I feel like I ‘get’ it and I can’t believe she’s kept quiet about how hard it is for so long.

Mums are essentially unpaid servants – not that mine, with her unbreakable mum poker face, ever let us in on this. Instead, she did it three times over – the nutter.

Despite being presumably knackered, she never complained she was tired, never lost her temper (well, perhaps once or twice), paid for EVERYTHING, always cooked (albeit sometimes microwaved) and was, and still is, always at the end of a phone.

My mum is definitely a good-un, providing me with the perfect example of a blissfully happy, easy and contented childhood which I now want more than anything to be able to replicate for my own son.

But six months in and still, when I see the word 'mummy' the pit of my stomach curdles and my cheeks prickle.

I'm the one with the mummy, not the one who is the mummy.

How Did I Become ‘Mummy’?!
This year I'm on the receiving end of a card. Mummy has become 'nanny' and I'm now 'mummy'.

I'm not the one burning the toast attempting to make mummy breakfast in bed anymore. Time has flown and I'm not sure that I've properly taken off.

I feel like a swan who looks super graceful and in control, but is frantically thrashing around beneath the water, unbeknown to anyone watching.

"Yeah, you and how many other million women?" I hear some of you say. And yes, most women will at some point be a mother, but why should that make us any less cautious?

You wouldn’t be less frightened to do a bungee jump just because you know other people have done it before. Your experience is unique to you so, of course, you are going to be cr*ping yourself.

This little human looks at me with his wide blue eyes, filled with absolute innocence and potential and to be honest, I'm scared.

Scared that I won't be able to do a good job, that I will disappoint him, let him down. My own mum set the bar high and now I’m scared I’ll fall short.

I just hope I deserve the burnt toast as much as she did.

[Baby Blog: Why Your Friends Without Children Will Never Understand You]

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