I’ll love you to the moon and back a million, zillion times.
I’ll always be there when you need me — even when you think that you don’t.
I’ll be there during your jagged, breathless, crying depression at seventeen,
just the same as for your chicken pox at two.
I’ll fight your corner when the school lets you down,
when your girlfriend dumps you,
when you’re blue.
I’ll sort out that student finance form for you,
re-learn that maths so I can help with your homework,
bring your forgotten swimming kit to school.
I’ll sew your hem up (badly) at breakfast time.
I’ll put notes in your packed lunch box when you need an extra hug during the day.
I’ll tidy your room (but sometimes you have to help),
and iron your clothes,
and make all your meals (even if some are freezer to microwave).
I’ll bandage your knees.
I’ll clear up when you’re sick,
hose you down,
kiss you better.
I’ll organise your birthday parties,
host your sleepovers,
buy in the treats,
(and stay out of the way).
I’ll make all our Christmases magical.
I’ll do all these things and a thousand, billion more.
Because I’m your mother.
Because I love you more than life.
Because you’re my child.
Because I never want to live in a world without you.

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