The origins of Mother's Day are not very clear but it is thought that the tradition had its roots in the 1600s, when young English maids and servants, who were only given one day off a year, would walk home to visit their families, picking meadow flowers on the way for their mothers. This day off for all the boys and girls in service turned into Mothering Sunday, or Mother's Day as we know it now, and the tradition for giving flowers still stands.

As a fully fledged mother of three I intend to make the most of today. Hopefully as you read this I will be sitting up in bed with a little glass of pink bubbly in my hand and some pretty hand-picked flowers sitting in water beside me. I will eventually rise to find my two boys in the kitchen, amicably making me a cake together that will, when the kitchen fairy has magically cleaned the kitchen, be scattered with rose petals and presented to me with big smiles.

I might then be whisked off somewhere gorgeous for lunch. The sun will be shining, the birds will be singing and everyone will behave. (That means no blowing bits of rolled-up paper napkins out of straws at other diners, boys.) Then we will go for a walk (my husband normally calls this the "boring bit") before heading home to watch a cosy, happy family movie followed by an undisturbed read of all the papers before a candlelit bubble bath, and bed, with baby sleeping all night long.

Sounds too good to be true? Well, I can only dream.