I am calling my mother out.
Yes, the woman who carried me for 34 weeks, fed me with her own milk, raised me and loved me and blah blah blah.
I'm not here to write in complete reverence and awe of her, but to make it clear that I have lived through some pretty shameful moments... all because of my very lovely mum.
In all honesty, I don't really have maternal instincts (ahem: you can read all about that here), nor do I think I could ever do the job my mum has done - for the most part, flawlessly - for 23 years.
And quite frankly, not many people can. So, I honour her for that.
But my god, there are certainly some things I would absolutely love to do over, especially when it comes to a heap of childhood experiences that concern my mother.