my mom

I happened to catch a few minutes of Loose Women during the week and they were discussing the best advice their mother’s had ever given them in order to set the tone for today, Mothering Sunday. On reflection, the idea my own mother has drummed home the most is that a lady should always wear matching underwear in case one gets hit by a bus. This has been ingrained in me to such an extent that on the odd occasion when I deviate from this rule I wonder if I am tempting fate.
Mom openly admits that she is not your typical baking-cookies-in-an-apron type. Rather aptly, one of my fifteen year old brother’s friends recently described her as so “g”. Thinking this meant that she was so “great” she proudly relayed the news to my brother who quickly corrected her by informing that this actually meant she was so “gangster”. Charming.
One of my most vivid memories is of my eleventh birthday and a sleepover at the little townhouse that Mom and I inhabited at the time. I had about ten of my girlfriends over and we ended up dressing up in Mom’s high-heels and clothes and taking turns to parade around in a massive sun hat that for the other three-hundred and sixty-four days of the year served as a wall decoration. She was and always will be one of the cool moms.
Mom and I share a similar fashion sense. We’ve been known to turn up on more than one occasion dressed in exactly the same outfit. I owe my love of big earrings and skinny jeans to her. As much as I might mock the return of eighties style, all I need to do is look at pictures of Mom with me as a toddler balancing on her hip and clearly big curly hair and stripes were always going to make a comeback – a fashion-trap in which I have subconsciously been caught. I blame my mother.
To fully appreciate Mom’s friendliness and love for other people, all I need to do is walk down the road with her. This simple task takes longer than most people as she stops at regular intervals to chat to locals she has befriended over the years. I used to cringe as a teenager when she would joke with the cashiers in shops (sorry Mom) but now I often find myself wishing I was that friendly rather than simply rushing my groceries through or worse even, using the self-checkout to avoid conversation at all.
So we have our similarities and we have our differences and I’m glad to report that I can actually whip up a mean batch of cookies. Most importantly, however, I can honestly say that I am truly blessed to have an amazing mom who is so many things to so many people; loving, caring, funny, compassionate, artsy, clever and good fun. She’s just so “g” (great, not gangster!).