Our biggest mistake is to think we won’t make any

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In the aftermath of Mother’s Day, I imagine florists around the country are lying in an exhausted heap among the remnants of what was once their flower shop.

I’m not a big fan of commercialised holidays, but I do like the idea of acknowledging what an important role mother’s play.

I don’t want to seem like I’m blowing my own trumpet – what with being one myself – but motherhood is, in my opinion, the most important and probably the hardest job in the world.

No other job carries with it such a huge assortment of emotional, physical and mental challenges.

We’re holding hands and crossing roads with the next generation here.

We’re told that when motherhood arrives we will instinctively know what to do.

To a great extent that’s true, but you can’t quite comprehend what a marathon of hurdles it will bring into your life.

I believe you can only really appreciate what your own mother has done for you when you become a mother yourself.

It is also the only time you can really appreciate what it is to get it wrong. And we do all get it wrong sometimes, how can we not?

Our biggest mothering mistake would be to think we won’t make any.

How could we attempt to teach our children that it’s okay to make mistakes and move on, if we don’t accept and acknowledge that we will be doing exactly the same?

I’ve done things since being a mother that I never thought I would, like plonking him in front of the telly to get some quiet time, and letting him eat sweets before dinner.

The other day I even caught myself doing the unthinkable and cleaning his grubby face with my licked finger – I’m really quite disappointed with myself.

Of course, I’ve made much bigger mistakes too, but I can only hope that love will outweigh all faults.

The important thing is that we are doing the best we can from where we are and with what we have.

At the end of the day, we’re all in this together on a lifelong learning curve.

Annoyingly, I still haven’t managed to master the perfect cook and immaculate home-keeper that my mum seemed to pull off so well.

Though maybe I just saw things through my rose-tinted childhood NHS specs?

Maybe those perfectly formed fairy cakes were the third batch, the first two having been chucked across the kitchen soggy or burnt, while I was busy doing child things.

Mums are brilliant and lovable in their uniqueness, despite their imperfections.

So if you are one then I hope you got spoilt at the weekend and, if you’re lucky enough to still have one of your own, don’t forget to appreciate her all year round, no matter how many walls she drives you up every day.

You never know when she won’t be there any more and you’ll be left wishing she would phone up for just one more rant about something you didn’t do quite right.

One of my mum’s favourite come-back lines when I was young was ‘You‘ll understand when you’re older.’ And you know what, I think I do.