Life

Leona O'Neill: Let's hear it for mothers because no mum is run-of-the-mill

If you have to abandon the grocery shopping when you get a call from work does it mean you’re a superhero? No, just an ordinary working mum, albeit with a slightly odd job, writes Leona O’Neill

None of us is a glossy-magazine-esque mum, none of us are run-of-the-mill
None of us is a glossy-magazine-esque mum, none of us are run-of-the-mill None of us is a glossy-magazine-esque mum, none of us are run-of-the-mill

MOTHER’S Day has come and gone for another year. It is a lovely celebration of our mothers and the amazing things they do for us, day in and day out, often without thanks.

For me it is a chance to tell my mum how much she means to me. She is the woman who taught me to be strong, taught me that there's no challenge that can't be overcome, that mothers can have a career and raise kids, that tea and a good laugh sorts everything and that nothing in life is impossible.

My mum is unshakeable and unshockable and when I call and say 'there's a bomb scare, can you watch the kids?' she's there quicker than the emergency services and it doesn't take a wrinkle out of her.

My mum is the type of woman who fixes tumble dryers herself, saws big branches off trees, fixes fences and plumbing and is neither a stranger to a car engine or bank reconciliation software on a computer. In her handbag she carries a screwdriver, biscuits, a calculator, miraculous medals and a lipstick – everything your modern-day female MacGyver could possibly need for every single eventuality.

In case you haven’t gathered by this point, my mum is a legend and I love her madly.

My mum takes after her mum, who raised eight children while running a post office and farm in Donegal in the 1940s and 50s. She worked, she baked, she ran after kids, she delivered news from battlefields and far flung places, taking to the roads at all hours of the day and night on her bike. She too was a strong woman who loved to laugh. She lived until she was 102.

I often ponder what my children think of me. They tell me I’m not your everyday ‘ordinary’ mum. There are times when I’ve had to abandon the grocery shopping on a Saturday because there’s been a breaking news story. There have been times when my job means we can’t do fun things on the weekend like other families.

They see me head out the door at all hours of the day and night to cover the news – much like my grandmother on her bike to deliver the news. They see the constant abuse I get online for doing my job and they wonder why on Earth I still do it. None of them want to be journalists, for that reason, and that makes me sad.

They hear my voice on the radio, they see my face on the television, they see my platforms on social media. I attend protests and riots and bomb scares and they worry for me. On Mother’s Day morning, when mums across the land were being furnished with bowls of dry Rice Crispies for breakfast in bed, I tiptoed out while they were all sleeping to cover a pipe bomb explosion in my city.

I was back before they woke up and spent the rest of the day celebrating with them and my own mum, but still, it’s not exactly glossy magazine-esque mum stuff and I’m not a glossy-magazine-esque mum.

But then no mum is. None of us are run-of-the-mill. We are all struggling to get through, with whatever challenges we face.

On Sunday there were single mums holding it together, being both mum and dad to their kids and doing an amazing job. There were women struggling to become mums, perhaps fighting an invisible battle with fertility, hoping that next month will be the one when all their dreams come true.

There were mums who spent Sunday grieving for their lost child, steering clear of the card shops and sentimental adverts on television because it was too much to bear. Or the grieving children, missing their mums, avoiding Facebook and the gushing tributes from sons and daughters to their beloved mums.

There are the mums who have strained relationships with their children, or those who have strained relations with their mums, the mums whose children don’t live with them for whatever reason, or the mums whose children have flown across the world to make a better life for themselves elsewhere.

And then there are the mums whose children are sick and whose lives revolve around hospital rooms.

It takes all kinds of Mums to make the world go round.

I might not get it right all the time but despite this my kids are amazing. They are good and they are kind and they are brave and unafraid to speak up. I hope I have played some part in that. I am their mother and therefore the luckiest woman in the whole world.

Everything I do, I do it for them. I stand my ground, I am strong, I am fearless because I know they are watching. I work hard and I love them fiercely and unconditionally because I know they are learning. They are my absolute world.

I hope you had a peaceful and relaxing Mother’s Day, whatever challenges you faced.