To my babies,
I am not the perfect mum, but no one will ever love you like I do.
I make the ugliest pancakes, but I make them because i know you love them, and I think they taste better than they look.
I am terrible at drawing and painting. I am the last person you should ask to draw Peppa for you. But I will try to replicate that annoying pig 100 times if it will please you.
I am not very sporty, I cannot tear after you all afternoon. Eventually I have to sit down and rest. But I will give the biggest clap and cheer as I watch everything you can do.
I cannot paint pretty pottery. Your baby footprints are smudged and wonky on the keepsakes that I made. But I treasure those tiny toe prints and love the memories we have shared.
I cannot make banana on toast like daddy, he slices the fruit so neatly. But I would go out to the nearest open shop at 5am if we were out of bread to make sure you could have your favourite breakfast.
My baking leaves much to be desired. I can make a batch of fairy cakes but the icing is never pretty. And yet still you smile and laugh as we do this simple thing together, which makes me feel like the Great British Bake Off champion.
I may lose my voice some days, but I will read to you even though I sound hoarse. I do this because I know how much you love it when we snuggle close together on the sofa to enjoy page after page after page.
I may not be a construction expert, and my Lego creativity leaves much to be desired. But if you demand I build an elephant, I will sort through bricks and scratch my head to do my best for you.
I am often tired at bedtime, while you are still full of beans. But I will be there to laugh as you splash in the bath and will always read to you before tucking you in at night.
I sometimes cannot pick you up and cuddle you both at the same time. It is when I feel torn in two like this that I worry I am not giving each of you enough of me. But please know that by giving you a sibling, I hoped to give you both a person who would always love you, no matter what.
I leave you at nursery, despite your tearful face. Please know that everything I do now is driven by what is best for you. I will work whatever hours I need to provide for you. I will treasure every moment we get together to make the ones I have lost up to you.
I am not always happy and smiley, sometimes I even raise my voice. But for every one word said in frustration I feel the regret a thousand times over.
I cannot sing in tune, but I will always give you one last request before bedtime.
My kisses will always be at their biggest and best when I am saying goodnight.
It is the small and insignificant moments of the day that are the biggest privilege to share with you.
Know that no one will ever love you like I do, my darling children.
I am not perfect and I never will be. But to me you are both absolute perfection, and that is what makes me your mum.