However, I would be lost without mine.

It wasn’t always this way.

Growing up we weren’t close, butting heads rather more often than not. Too similar to each other my Dad said.

But everything changed when I became a mother… while she hadn’t enjoyed (so she claims) the role of Mother herself, she loves being a Granny.

Sam was her second grandchild, my gorgeous niece Daisy had been born a couple of years earlier, but for all anyone could guess Sam was the first and only grandchild, the way he was adored!

It was Mum who packed her bags and came to stay with us in the early days when I was in the depths of postnatal depression; it was her who cooked and cleaned, ensuring that all I had to focus on was Sam, and recovering.

She knew first hand the devastation post-natal depression can cause, and was adamant that she would stay as long as we needed her.

On that awful morning in August 2011, when my boy experienced his first seizure, I turned again to Mum.

Although they live over 70 miles away, they dropped everything to be with us at the hospital. Mum held my hand tightly while the Dr’s explained what was happening.

It was she who physically forced me to leave the ward to get a coffee and allow me to break down in private.

Over the years, she has been my first point of call for all things, be it advice on managing a situation at work, helping to care for Sam and learning how to do his essential physio/therapy/care/feeding etc.

She has always been there, ready to support and help, allowing J and I to juggle work with caring for a very poorly child by taking early retirement to support us, and be always being available at the end of the phone.

I am incredibly proud of my Mum.

I couldn’t do half of what I do if it wasn’t for her; the way she cared for my Dad in the last years of his life took a toll on her but brought us even closer through our shared experiences.

She is a bright and vivacious soul, loved by her children and grandchildren, and I am very much aware of how lucky I am to have her.