Science has unlocked more motherhood types than most of us have washed dirty socks.
The perfectionist mother. The unpredictable one. The best friend mother. The complete mother. The manager. The controller. The nagger. The helicopter parent. The lawn-mower adult.
And parenting experts have produced millions of pages of advice, proscribing the failures attached to each of them.
Whichever way we turn, we risk damaging our children, and changing their trajectory forever.
We risk creating anxious children. And fearful children. Risk-averse children. Children who will not cope with a relationship break-up, or a job loss. Who knows, we might be turning Olympic stars or Nobel Peace Prize winners into self-absorbed, spoilt adults who will never reach their deserved potential.
No wonder so many of us put off having children for so long!
But what the experts don’t often articulate is that all-encompassing role that goes to the crux of motherhood.
Pressures and pleasures
The mother, or mother figure, who lies awake at nigh, planning how she’ll finish the work report, volunteer at the soccer match, and ensure she talks her teen through her first date.
The loyal supporter. The backstop. The confider. The chef and teacher and laundry lady.
It becomes part of our DNA, bloating our days and eating into our nights.
Why won’t he talk to me now he’s 14? Should I check the messages on her smart phone to see if the bullying has stopped?
It starts years before that, soon after childbirth. What happens if I can’t breastfeed? Is colic an early sign of a milk allergy?
Soon anaphylaxis, a word many of us had never used, becomes part of the mum chat.
Then there’s choosing schools, teaching our little ones to navigate friendship fails and the hurt that comes from missing out or coming last or not being chosen with the same frequency of someone else.
Mother guilt, at least in my home, is much more pervasive than Father guilt.
That’s not to say fathers aren’t crucial to the lives of our children. They are. And increasingly, we share all those duties. But this weekend, unashamedly, my focus is mothers.
Just when our apprenticeship is over and our child walks through the door into teenhood, we are sent back to the classroom of hard knocks.
The teen-years’ sequel
But now, they don’t always coming running, without pride, for a hug. It’s harder for them – and and us too – because they struggle to open up, and let us soothe the torment.
It doesn’t end, either, when they back the car out, with a cheery goodbye, as young adults.
Are they experienced enough to drive on the highway? Will they choose the right partner? Exercise enough? Not vape?
If science managed to take the lid off a mother’s head, they’d find a code worth bottling: a secret unique recipe that allows a superior ability to multi-skill, and perform a dozen tasks at one time.
We are lucky if our mums live long enough for all of us to understand and genuinely appreciate their full role in our lives. And it’s perhaps only when we have children ourselves that we learn the extent of a mother’s role – as sherpa, Uber driver, psychologist, teacher, nurse, counsellor, coach, chef, confidante and life-long volunteer.
This week, I read mumbles that women want equality, not breakfast in bed this Mother’s Day.
For me, I think we – and all those who have been mothers or mother-figures to us – deserve both.
Happy Mothers’ Day to everyone who fills that treasured role in someone’s life.
