Sunday, 6 March 2016


People say that being a mum is one of the most important, incredible things in the world.
I think having a mum is. 

When you think about where you'd be today, or the person you'd be today, without your mum it's hard to imagine. It's even harder to imagine when your mum has had to be your mum and your dad; when there's only been one constant person, and one that you've always been able to turn to. 

I feel like I'm reaching that point in my life where I'm starting to realise that I am becoming my mother, that we have lots of the same mannerisms, attitudes, values and it's both a comforting and distressing thought. I hope that I'll always be a bit more huggy than my mum, more of a drama queen, and I'll always let my future kids have a pet. Always.  But, in many other ways, I could not be prouder to be a woman like my mother, because she is one of the most driven, strong and supportive mum's you could ever wish for.

I was chatting to a friend this week who was annoyed that our university graduation was on a Monday, and that her mum might not be able to come, because she doesn't want to have to take the day off work. And I was shocked. Because I can't imagine my mum ever having said "oh great, so I'll have to take a day off work" at the prospect of my graduation, and that's how it's always been. I was never the kid that had to spend hours in the library after school, doing their homework, until their parents could pick them up. I was never shifted between friends houses or childminders during school holidays. At every competition, event, play, show, performance, options evening, school mum was there - even if it mean shooting off from work and driving across the county, just to hear me do a speech for the Rotary Club, she never would have missed it. 

It wasn't just the token proud parent moments she's been there for. I wasn't the easiest child or teenager, and I'm not proving to be the easiest adult. Not because I'm too cool for my mum, and super rebellious, but because I seem to end up with all the bizarre health problems, to be a bit too intense and to get really stressed slightly too easily. But she has always been the one that's been there to sort me out. Whether that meant quitting her job to stay home for an entire year to look after me when I was too ill to go to school; buying me a giant bell that I could ring if I needed to in the night - when I woke up feeling unwell and panicked and felt like I couldn't breathe; or taking me to Boots to buy every pillow spray, form of Rescue Remedy and herbal pill on the market to help me sleep. She was the one that believed me, and knew me, when no one else did, and fought her way through GPs and paediatricians for me - and to get the best help for me. 

And she's fought my corner in every other walk of life. I remember her arranging a meeting with my head of year aged 12 or 13 to discuss why they thought I was getting progressively less intelligent, and why they were encouraging me towards school subjects that I didn't like, I wasn't interested in and I wasn't good at, simply because it benefited their funding. She's given me the opportunity to go to some amazing schools, where I met the best friends and had the happiest years of my life (so far!) - and supported me all the way through it. When I wanted to go to gymnastics, Brownies, ballet, tap, modern, swimming and be in the school play - that was fine, and she'd spend her evenings and weekends chauffeuring my brother and I between every extra-curricular activity imaginable. She's always been of the mentality that she wanted Matt and I to have every opportunity imaginable, and to do the things she hadn't been able to do when she was our age, and has done everything in her power to support that. 

And that's why my mum is awesome - and why I'm glad she's mine. Sure, we fight (I've definitely got my fiery and opinionated side from her); her taste in men destroys my soul every single day; and she gave me my thighs (eugh). But she also gave me my ambition, my confidence, my love of books and theatre, and she would do anything for me - from fighting landlords to making me dairy-free crumble - and I wouldn't swap this lady for the world. Happy Mother's Day. 

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