Mummy, Mama and Mothering Sunday

My daughter is beautiful. I love her more than I could ever imagine. I love being a parent. 

On Sunday it is Mothering Sunday. I can honestly say I have absolutely no feelings about it whatsoever. It's not that I don't feel like a mum, it's just it feels so artificial to me. 

A little while ago me and R had a chat about Mothers Day and decided that it would be 'her' day to receive a card and small present from M. I have decided to claim Father's Day as my own. Not becauseI identify as a father per se, but so that when other children are making cards for their Dads at nursery, M can make one for me and not feel left out. 

In some ways, I fulfill a really traditional 'dad' role. I go to work while R stays at home, I look after the car and general maintenance, and R does the cooking and tidying and household management. It's weird to be such a stereotype - although given we are both women, perhaps society will let us off?

Maybe I'll have some kind of epiphany on Sunday, but I doubt it. In the meantime, roll on Father's Day. Perhaps I should start jangling keys in my pocket and talking about traffic on the motorway to complete my cliched role...

My thoughts on Mothering Sunday

Here in the UK it is Mother's Day, or as my own Mum prefers to call it, Mothering Sunday. It does make it sound more spiritual, although it does make me feel as though we ought to mark it in church or something which we haven't done.

R and I sent our own Mothers' cards, and we also sent each other little 'mum-to-be' cards. It's funny to think that, all being well, by Mother's Day 2014 we will have a little baby of our own.

As those of you who have read previous posts will know, I started this blog to try and make sense of my role as the non-biological child that my wife, R, is currently pregnant with. We are 15 weeks pregnant today and contemplating how our lives will change. One of the wonderful things I have discovered about writing this blog, is how many people feel similarly to me. It has been fantastic reading comments and tweets from people sharing their very diverse experiences.

One thing that has become abundantly clear, and that I have found enormously comforting, has been that while I won't share the biological and birth giving connection to my child that my wife has, I will have my own bond with my son or daughter, she she will not have. We will have our own very special roles, neither one more important than the other. This has been a rather delightful revelation to me. So, no, the child won't have my green eyes, but it may well share my sense of humour. And while R will have the connection of breast feeding, I will be the one, while R is on maternity leave, that the baby will enjoy returning home from work.

Finally, this Mothering Sunday, I'd just like to take a moment to think about those who aren't mums and wish they were, or those whose mums are no longer with us. I always think this must be a very tough time for them.