I always thought my mum was amazing. She is caring, she is cool, and she loves me unconditionally. Then I became a mother, and my appreciation for all of those things stretched and deepened. Because she loved me through all of it – the nappies, the tantrums, the sleeplessness, the attitude and the tears. I have a better understanding of what that looks like now. This letter is for her, and for everyone who has ever looked after a small human.
You are the bomb. Just to clarify – this is a good thing. It means you’re awesome.
There are so many things I could say to you about what I’ve learnt since I’ve had kids. About the way I feel about everything that you’ve done (and still do) for me. In the end, it can basically be summed up into two categories: Thank you, and I’m sorry. I’m going to write the thank yous first, so you’re in a positive frame of mind when you read the sorrys. Hope that’s okay.
Thank you for loving me unconditionally. Even when I vomited on you, pooped on you and yelled at you. I hope I only did those things when I was under five, but my memories of six, seven and twenty-six are a little hazy.
Thank you for being patient with me when I was frustrated. Thank you for helping me find ways to calm down, and for hugging me when I needed comfort.
Thank you for letting me come into your bed every night. It felt like a perilous journey down the hallway to my four-year-old self, but the warmth, love and safety at the end were always worth it.
Thank you for making me muesli munchies when I wanted chocolate cupcakes. Even if I don’t always love the size of my thighs, I know that they would be twice as wide if it wasn’t for you.
Thank you for forgiving me. For not holding the things I did against me, and for starting fresh each day.
Thank you for cooking me dinner every night.
Thank you for changing most of my nappies.
Thank you for playing with me, for reading with me, and for waking up with me.
Thank you for not saying ‘I told you so’, even though I’ve given you countless reasons to do so.
Thank you for keeping your spare change in an easy hiding spot.
Thank you for loving my kids in the same unconditional way you’ve always loved me.
Thank you for accepting me for who I am, even if we don’t always think the same things.
Sorry for any supermarket related incidents – the pulling down your top when I was still breastfeeding, the tantrums, the sneaking of chocolates, nuts and grapes.
Sorry that I came into your bed every night. I imagine that was a bit of a romance killer for you and Dad. I also just realised that I don’t have any younger siblings, and there’s a potential link there.
Sorry for spitting out the muesli munchies sometimes. They really were delicious, they just weren’t chocolate cupcakes.
Sorry I didn’t always appreciate the dinners you cooked. In hindsight, I wish I could have frozen every meal you ever made me to last through adulthood. Feel free to come over and cook me dinner any night you want. I promise I won’t throw it on the floor, but will relish every mouthful.
Sorry for pooping. Changing nappies sucks.
Sorry for saying ‘I told you so’ whenever I was right. You are a bigger person than me.
Sorry for stealing your spare change. But again, thanks for the easy hiding spot.
Sorry that sometimes I disagree with you. I can’t imagine what it will be like when the kids start doing that, but I know that I won’t like it very much.
Sorry for growing up. Yesterday Eli told me that he would still give me cuddles when he’s bigger. I hope so. There’s really no cuddles like the ones your mum or dad gives.
You have given me the best picture of what motherhood looks like, and I am so blessed to call you mum.
P.S. Tell Dad that he is my superhero. And that I promise I’ll write him a letter as soon as I can forget that I just wrote a reference to you guys having sex.