What makes a mother a ‘Mum?’
I’m thinking now…
Is it the endless hours spent explaining how?
The scolding, the nodding, the holding?
The wiping, the hugging, the folding?
Is it when your child came home beaming,
looking to you for the approval they’re seeking?
When they take their first tentative steps into,
a mad scary world, how you equipped them to do?
The nights spent rigid with helpless fear,
when your damp-forehead darlings felt rather queer.
The hours of torturously-tired toddler taming,
when you just want to sleep, and the evening light’s waning.
The games you played with tiny chubby dictators,
who you persuaded to accept your rules and regulators.
Is it the proud applause and the gentle encouraging?
The unconditional loving and the constant waiting,
The countless lifts and the kindly berating,
The bedtime stories and the generous listening?
I don’t really know.
I can’t say it all.
But the best times were the times,
you spent, just giving me
Thank you Mum, for being more than just a mother.
So much more…