Looks like you’re in the USA or Canada. Visit our US site Mom365 to search baby names, get offers and to connect with local Moms.

Take me there No thanks, I’ll stay here

Join Bounty for free today

For weekly personalised pregnancy and parenting emails, and lots more…

Why should you join Bounty? Here's why:

  • Four free packs full of goodies
  • Four free guides full of expert advice
  • Exclusive and personalised offers - save up to 70%!
  • Member only competitions 
baby news

I don't need Mother's Day to tell you...

An open letter to my mum now I'm a mum too

I love you mum. I really do.

You’re there for me in every way a mum and friend should be.


Whether it’s helping me talk through my problems, a night out or babysitting my three year old so I can have a little bit of me time.

I don’t think you’ve ever had a moment in your life – since you had me and my two brothers anyway- that you’ve said ‘no’ to helping us.

You were there when I had Leon being the second person – after his dad – to hold him while I woke up after my op and there again in pretty much the same room, holding my hand when I woke up again after my second pregnancy went wrong.

 I know you were upset, but you never cried. In fact you stayed strong, taking care of all of us while I recovered.

And that’s just recently. I could go on for pages.

Let’s be honest. We weren’t always so close. You’ll probably remember the teenage years when I was the text book hormonal teen. You hated that I wanted to go out and I hated that when you finally let me out – I was 17 and had just been allowed to wax my legs – you had to pick me up, even though my friends were allowed to be out all hours.

But now I’m a mum myself I totally understand. In fact, we all know Leon will not be going out until he’s 50. I’ll make sure every bar man and bouncer in the UK knows that! And although I have at least 15 years to go before he starts asking to go out – I still worry about it now.

In fact, not having him at home with me gives me that horrible sinking feeling in my stomach and now I understand how you felt when you cried upon leaving me on my first day of Uni.

But I came back and when I did you never once asked me to pay the rent, tidy up or clean. And we know how my friends call you that ‘typical Greek mum as a result’.

I won’t lie. I’m not perfect, you still see that stroppy teen you thought you’d said goodbye to coming out occasionally, but if I can do even a quarter of the job that you did bringing me up, with Leon then I’ll be the proudest person in the world.

So I just want to say thank you for everything you have done for me now and in advance for the future. And I’m not writing this letter because it’s Mother’s Day on Sunday – after-all, in the same way I feel about Valentine’s Day, you shouldn’t just show your love because the commercial days tell you to – I just felt it was the time.

I ‘love you to the moon and back’


I don't need Mother's Day to tell you...