You do the hardest job in the world. You are amazing. If you take nothing else from this heed that.
For one thing you have to sacrifice so much. Once upon a time you were a carefree young girl, the world at your feet and your story all ready to be told. You could spend hours getting ready, afford those clothes, take that trip, get up late. And then one day that came to an end and the diary took on a different form. Suddenly it's a twenty four hour commitment to the wellbeing of others, a brand new little person wanting everything you've got and then more. The love you have for them, even when they are being a pickle is beyond anything you've ever known; a mothers love, deep and intense and sacrificial. That carefree girl get's put away and everyone else come first; I know how much you sometimes long for the days when your time was your own, or when someone would pamper and love you and put you on a pedestal and treat you like a princess, even if it's only for a while. Only the treadmill rumbles on, the conveyor belt of expectation never ending. And as those little people become slightly bigger people the demands seem to grow. You often have to balance so much, don't you? Work, child rearing, relationship building with your partners. And I know that sometimes it gets too much. This is why you're brilliant, why the term beautiful exists, in actual fact. Your sacrifice is the most noble, the most stressful, the most physically exhausting of them all. Demands from all sides, a constant stream, and the worst is that you get so little thanks. And then there's that guilt you feel, even when you do so much there are those days when you feel like you've let people down. You're expected to be Mothers, lovers, colleagues, organisers, transport, chef; that doesn't leave much time for you.
I'm going to say this again. You are amazing. No, you're absolutely bloody stupendous. I am in awe of you, you're doing the most important job in the world and there's rarely any time off. You have all those lovely clothes in the wardrobe you'd love the chance to wear, and what you'd give for an afternoon at a spa being pampered. I want to thank you for everything you do for the children and the fathers of the world, because you are the engine room, and without you the wheels would come off. I know it's hard, I know you struggle, and I have an even bigger heart for those of you doing it alone. Those days when you feel poorly you can't hand over, and at that time of the month you can't just curl up in a corner with a hot water bottle and a magazine. That's sacrifice, that's love, and if there are such things as angels they'd do well to take a tip or two from you. And when the days come when you lose it, when you shout and wring those overworked hands, don't be too hard on yourself. It doesn't make you any less incredible. It makes you human, fragile, and real.
Perhaps one day you'll get to reclaim that long lost girl that you used to be? Perhaps you can start thinking of yourself, indulging yourself, taking your foot off the pedal and discovering all those passions which you had to shelve for a while?
You're more than just a mum, you realise? You're a lady, a woman, and my hope is that one day, perhaps not so long from now, all your hopes and dreams will come true.