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'I am a bad mother.' Every Christmas, this is what I think because the holiday season fills me with such anxiety. I'm sure that other mothers are happily baking cookies, decorating trees, and finding perfect gifts for everyone.

I'm very sensitive. Because my mum was my primary emotional caregiver growing up, I found myself being pinned into dresses, darting her dresses, choosing her high heels for the evening or what to wear. I'm very much a mommy's boy.

I do love to cry. I'll cry at the drop of a hat. I'll cry at your basic television programme, let alone a weepie. But not big, heavy, serious crying. I haven't done that for a while, which is a relief. More like a little welling up of joy.

I'm someone who laughs a lot and cries a lot.

Just being a mother is making me a big, weepy mess.

I'm more apt to cry at something beautiful than at something sad.

I'm the kind of person that if I see someone else crying, I cry too. I take on that emotion.

I cry when I don't get food on time. I am not cranky but have the heart of a child. I cry and laugh at most times. I have the sensitivity of a child.