Dr Michelle O'Driscoll: Lessons I've learned as a mother 

We had a big birthday in our house last week, with my little girl turning six.

As with every year, the day itself is spent thinking back to that particular time and place, - what was happening, how I was feeling, and how life-changing her arrival was.

It was the day she was born, but also the day that we became parents, that I became a mum.

Six years have flown by in a blur of nappies, cuddles, laughter, sleepless nights, and jam-packed days.

Her brothers have joined the party since then, and chaos is probably an understatement of how life can be. But I would change absolutely none of it.

The nostalgia and reflection that goes with that date every year got me thinking about some of the things that I’m slowly realising, learning and attempting to remember on a more continuous basis about motherhood, and trying to show up in the best possible way for her and them. Things that hit home each time I hear them, but slip into the edge of my awareness in the speed of daily life are mentioned here.

Tidy house or happy kids – take your pick!

Anybody else ever get the house in order with blood, sweat and tears, and then proceed to threaten anybody who dares to leave so much as a Lego block out of place?

It’s a short-lived patrolling of the space, until I give into the inevitable mess that ensues.

What sometimes feels a mess, though, is actually a sign of the kids having fun, being creative, letting loose, and expressing themselves through play.

Keeping on top of all of that in real-time is not realistic, and letting go of that expectation is a relief – until the next time I go on the tidying rampage!

You’re not a cross mum, its over-stimulation

The noise levels that come with the screaming, whinging, laughing and/or crying at any given moment is generally tolerable – until suddenly it isn’t.

That’s when I can be prone to feeling touched out, overwhelmed and irritable. And it helps to recognise that it isn’t that I’m an unloving mum, or that I don’t enjoy their company, but rather I’m just over-stimulated by the noise levels at that particular moment, and it’s my senses responding accordingly that leads to me feeling that way.

Cutting myself some slack for this, and maybe arranging some time way to step out from it for a little while, helps to keep me calm and in better control of the reaction that can sometimes result.

Your voice becomes their voice

I see my own expressions and mothering approach come out in how my little girl speaks to her brothers - for better or for worse!

It’s sometimes a gentle check-in to see that they’re OK, and a cuddle or reassurance.

But it can also occasionally be more than a stern word, with a turn of phrase that she could only have got from me!

It makes me realise that the same commentary could very well be going in her own head, reflecting how I speak to her.

For this reason, I do my best to be encouraging and uplifting, reassuring and supportive, rather than being too harsh.

I want her inner voice to be her greatest cheerleader, instead of a relentless critic.

The days are long but the years are short

Each day can feel endless, but each year feels so brief!

The countdown to being able to crash on the couch at bedtime is a regular occurrence, and yet I cannot believe how fast they’ve grown or that it’s been a year since her last birthday!

It helps to remember that in the grand scheme of things, when a day feels particularly tough, it will be no more than a flash in the pan, and a blip on the journey with them.

You hopefully have more than “eighteen summers”

In the context of the ticking clock, I’m acutely aware that their time off from school and that quality time together as a family is limited.

I’ve heard the warning that there’s “only eighteen summers”, and that kids don’t remember the first five – so you’ve got about six of them to make the most of before they no longer really want to spend all that time with you.

In one way, this is a good reminder to make the most of things.

But, on the other hand, I’d hope that beyond a few summers of teenage angst, we’ll have a relationship whereby we’ll continue to spend quality time together, explore new places and do new things.

Our relationship as adults is a new exciting chapter to look forward to, rather than the end of the story. If that’s what we’re blessed with.

With the very best of intentions, all of the above can go out the window at the drop of a hat when the going gets tough.

But I remember them all eventually, and hope that I’ll continue to gain these little realisations and get to apply them where I can year by year.