This year, I’m looking forward to Mothering Sunday more than I ever have before. Yes, I was a mother last year too, and No, my daughter isn’t up to making me tea in bed this year either… so why is this year different?

Well, for one thing, this year I feel like a mother. Last year I had been doing the job a mere seven weeks and was feeling overwhelmed, storm-tossed, bedraggled and alone. This year, I have all of 14 months’ experience and – more to the point – I feel empowered and alive as a mother in a way that I never have before. I love it. I feel that I was born for it.

And, another thing, this year will be the first that my daughter and I spend with my mother. As I have grown into this new role and, by some mysterious process, become that thing which is a Mother, all that has happened to me has given me a new appreciation for my own mother. I can’t wait to get there and unload chocolates and our precious home-made card: scribbled chalks on black paper, more love and enthusiasm than skill – but no less, I hope, for that.

So this Sunday for me will be a celebration. I celebrate where I have come from and where I have got to so far. Perhaps I will even find time to wonder where the journey will take me next.

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