‘I’m just a mum,’ she said, actually looking embarrassed.

‘What does that mean?’ I asked, confused. I’d only been married a few months and kids weren’t on the agenda for us yet.

‘I used to be a sales rep for a medical company,’ she quickly added. ‘And I plan to get back into it as soon as my baby’s old enough.’

‘Sooo, you’re a stay-at-home mum,’ I said.

‘Yeah, I know. Pretty uninteresting, right? But I’ll be somebody again soon.’

Judgement

It seemed strange to me, even back then, that being a stay-at-home mum seemed to carry a sense of shame.

Years later, I made the choice to be a stay-at-home mum. That ‘look’ you get when you tell people what you ‘do’ still takes me by surprise.

Okay people, no one is ‘just a mum’ — I’m a superhero with stretch marks instead of a cape.

My superpowers include: being able to pick my own child’s cry within a 10km radius, functioning on under 4 hours’ sleep, multi-tasking to the max, knowing the precise location of my child’s treasured ‘blankie’ at all times and most importantly, shaping the heart and mind of a precious little person into a valuable human being.

Vital

Whether you’re a stay-at-home mum, or a working mum, no one knows what’s best for your family better than you.

There’s nothing more important that you will ever do or be. And just because there’s no business card with ‘Mum’ as the job title, doesn’t mean you don’t deserve a huge pay rise and a holiday.

There’s no Friday afternoon cheer, because you never clock off. No high-fives from colleagues when your toddler finally gets the hang of toilet training and no pay rise for getting to the bottom of the wash basket.

But I’m paid in cuddles, sloppy kisses and my three favourite words: ‘Love you, mum.’

No one is ‘just a mum.’