Loving our Mums

Having waited weeks after when the books said I would feel 'stirrings' from my bump, we skipped the stirrings stage and went straight in at kicks and punches. It was a huge relief (and still is) to feel the movements, even when they are uncomfortable, reassuring me that life is continuing within.
It has also left me (slightly tongue in cheek) thinking about all the metaphorical kicks and punches we continue to give our parents through our lives.
This Sunday in the UK is mothering Sunday - for many a commercialised festival of cards and flowers. However its origins lie in the honouring of Mother Church. I thought this post might be a nice opportunity to show some appreciation for my own mum, who has certainly taken more kicks from life than is anyone's fair share, but has taught me the importance of being able to continue and fight despite what tragedies life throws your way.
I want to thank my mum for insisting that we didn't have to celebrate Mothers Day because we didn't celebrate Mother Church. Perhaps rather than one day of treats, we should be taking the ten commandments seriously every day of the year, and honouring our mother (and father, as long as they do nothing to disqualify themselves from such honour!)
I want to thank her for always trying to fix things when they were broken, even when I had given up.
I want to thank her for her creativity and mess.
And for giving me her curls and my brother her nose.
For knowing when she could teach me, and when to get someone else to.
And for putting up with the kicks whenever they have come, and still being my friend as well as my mum.
Happy non-Mothering Sunday mum.