Being a Mum is a funny old job. There are no pay rises if you do something particularly amazing like I dunno, teach your child how to poo in a potty. There's no appraisals and no boss to say "you are doing a bloody amazing job!". It's a 24/7 career and sometimes it can be pretty damn demeaning. From cleaning up sick and wee, to wiping yet another grubby bottom. There's also the element of this vocation which relies on you being able to cope on no sleep and all in all. It can be f*cking exhausting.
I always remember being baffled after my first born. I said to friends "I have been doing everything for this tiny human for six months and am not really getting anything back". OK there was the odd gummy grim (or was that a burp?) and there sometimes a cute giggle (again or was that a burp?). As your children get older of course you get the "I love you" and hugs that knock you off your feet but still no-one really can pin point if you are doing 'it' (whatever it is) right.
This week we had World Book Day. After last year, when I made a Matilda outfit that was terrible, I thought ahead and let both of my two pick whatever outfit they wanted. They looked gorgeous. I took a 100 photos. We did spells before they went to school and everyone was happy. When I got home from a day in London I asked if they had had fun. They hadn't. They didn't win the best outfit competition. And I was crushed. Chances are they will NEVER win this particular accolade as my talent is not in crafting. It's just another kick in the balls. Another thing that makes me think I'm not very good at my job. I crave something to show to me that I'm doing OK.
And that's what Mother's Day is to me. I know some people are from the school of thought that is "everyday should be a Mother's Day!". But f*ck that. I want one day a year where my husband states to the world "you are doing a great job". If this includes a Facebook status? Even better. I need reassurance that all the bum wiping, hand holding, tear stopping, washing, cleaning, tidying, taking to school, loving so hard my heart feels that it's on fire, is all worth it. That it is understood that I am doing the best job I can. Yes shouty Mum sometimes rears her ugly head and OK my crafting is utterly sh*t but I am the best Mum I can be to them.
Kids can bring cards home that their teachers have made them write. And deliver a bunch of daffs saying "Happy Mother's Day" when really they are thinking that they would quite like to go on the tablet and watch YouTube. It's down to you. The other halves, or sisters or close friends, if no other half is around, to tell us that we are OK. That we ARE good enough. To spur us on to do another 365 days of bum wiping, sick cleaning and no sleeping. I just need to know that I'm a good Mum and whilst there is never going to be any pay rise. A box of chocs, a Yankee Candle and a "bab I'm so glad you're the Mother of my children" wouldn't go amiss.