This week my baby girl turned one year old. What an amazing year we’ve had chock full of joy, awe, cuteness and disbelief that this tiny human places her trust solely in us to help her grow. It has also been a year of coming to terms with helping this tiny human grow in an entirely different dynamic to my now 7-year old son. With no Nanna to hang out with, dote on her constantly or give me relief, I’m finding this parenting game at times… well… crappy.
As mother’s day approaches, the media is flooded with messages of ‘thank mum for this’ and ‘thank mum for that’. But why are we thanking mums rather than just helping them? It’s not that I don’t think mums should be thanked (you absolutely must thank your mum for all she does – her work literally NEVER ends… just ask the laundry pile and kitchen sink). I just wonder why in the 21st century, we’re still letting her do all the stuff we thank her for.
Listening to the radio last week, I heard about a ‘Mother of the Year’ competition where people could enter their mother based on criteria that, frankly, made me cringe. So I thought I’d write my own criteria on a fictional ‘Mother of the Year’ award.
My 4 year old loves dresses. He loves dresses so much he has more of them than I do. He also loves to paint his nails, wear jewellery and rocks a very cool tiny hair braid with a pink bead on the end. His favourite colours are pink and red.