So you’re just a mum?

‘Oh you’re a mum, just a mum.’

No.

I’m a mummy, a mama, a mam and a mum.

I’m a daughter and a fiancé.

A best friend, friend and an enemy.

A cleaner, cook and pot washer.

A tidier, and tidy some more-er.

Chief big food shopper and charity shop dropper.

Laundry worker and high chair scrubber.

Cat feeder and cat brusher.

Bird feeder.

Petrol buyer.

Lost sock finder, clothe folder, clothe storer.

Decorator, interior designer and rearranger.

Bed sheet changer and clean towel provider.

Toilet bleacher and shower scrubber.

Daydreamer, book reader.

Coffee devourer and prosecco admirer.

Hypnobirthing teacher, feminist, votes for women screamer.

PTSD, PND, cry me a river?

All the letters.

But I’m more than that, we all are.

We’re blood and bones and h2o.

And love and pain and fear and joy.

So no, not JUST a mum.

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