Mum’s the word

It’s true what they say. When you become a mother yourself, you see your own mother in a whole new light.

I certainly realised once I became a mother, that being a mother can be tough. Making decisions about how you bring up your children, and understanding that everything you do now has an impact on someone else’s life is a big thing to get your head around. And I still have years of that ahead of me (and some big decisions such as schooling, allowing independence, and the whole minefield of boyfriends/girlfriends etc…) – whereas my mother has been doing it for over 30 years already.

When writing my blog, I do sometimes write about things that occurred earlier in my life, which have made me the person I am today. I’ve been writing an online diary since 2001, and when I first started writing, my tagline was ‘Open to Misinterpretation’.

It seems that although I no longer feature that line, its certainly still relevant. This is because in the last week, my family discovered my blog. And they (my mother in particular) are not amused (that may in fact be a massive understatement…). Whereas I may use an example of something to illustrate a point, my mother sees it as a slur on her character. For example, citing a time which I found tough inevitably is a time that my mother found tough too, yet she then feels that my bringing this up shows her to be a bad mother.

That is simply not the case. I can understand why she might feel that way, but I certainly don’t intend to portray her as a bad mother – and she isn’t one! But neither do I wish to over-censor my writing because (mainly thanks to my mother) I believe that you should speak your mind, and be honest about what you are talking about.

So it’s a bit of a dilemma really. This blog is my outlet, a place to post things good and bad, to get things off my chest, to share the good times and the not-so-good times too with the world.

It’s hard sometimes being a mum. And it was hard sometimes for my mum being a mum too. It still is! I’d never expect her to be perfect, and I don’t expect myself to be perfect either. But through blogging, I feel a bit more supported, a bit more helped through the tough times, as well as being able to celebrate the good times, the fun things and the cherished little moments too.

So – sorry Mum – I’m not going to stop writing about the things that matter to me.

However, just to even the scores a bit, and to show the world why they’d be lucky to have my mum as a mother, here are some facts that simply can’t be misinterpreted:

1/ She gave me a love of cooking, reading, and craft, which I am now passing on to my own children today. Some of my earliest memories are of cooking with my Mum, and she also made us some totally AMAZING birthday cakes throughout the years too, as well as homemade party dresses (one of which I intend nicking for Bubby D when she’s a little bit older!)

2/ She persistently took me to the hospital and insisted that I was checked out for medical problems even though no-one believed that there was anything wrong with me for a long time, because she knew herself that there WAS something wrong, and she wouldn’t cave into the pressure and be told otherwise. I believe that’s most likely saved me from a lot more problems that I could have had otherwise, from talking to other people with the same condition.

3/ She put up with me when I was a frankly horrible 15/16/17 year old, and never gave up on me, even when I put her through hell (as many teenagers are wont to do). She gave me enough independence to make my own (often wrong) decisions, and supported my part-time work endeavours – sometimes coming out in the early hours to pick me up in her car, all stinky and greasy from a long shift at a well known evil capitalist fast food chain.

4/ She allowed us to have a complete menagerie of pets and didn’t bat an eyelid (well, maybe there was a little bit of batting but only a very very little bit) when a new addition would join the family on a whim. Hamsters, guinea pigs, tortoises, gerbils, fish, and even cats (inevitably runts of the litter, or somewhat crazy ones) would turn up randomly and be greeted warmly.

5/ She helped me to realise that I can succeed through anything, by showing me her strength and diligence in making it through the bad times herself. If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t be where I am today.

6/ She’s always been there for me throughout having my own children, particularly in the early days, and I’m especially grateful for her support with the Wee Man and moving house (we’ve moved house a LOT in the last few years!). I don’t know how we would have coped otherwise.

There are many, many other things that I could bring up. But you get the idea.


I’ll keep on writing. And you’ll keep on being great.



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