I’m still the person who reads ‘Ten’ and thinks of Pearl Jam. Now my reality is accompanied by me being a parent to a ten year-old.
Everything isn’t as it was, and will never be again. Life changed at 0954 on Wednesday 18th March 2009. I may have had nine months warning (or six…) but no amount of preparation would have been sufficient for becoming a mother.
And now it seems this is my reality. Ten years of raising a completely independent daughter.
I’d love to say her traits are alien to me. But more so I’ve learned why you don’t fight fire with fire.
And yes, I continue to try to fight with someone who has an identical personality. I then wonder why I curse that she is such a daddy’s girl.
It seems daddy tolerates me and my daughter when we’re at our worst.
And yes, I am that parent when talking to her teacher. Trying to extract the areas for improvement. Why, oh why, is my daughter doing well at school when she causes chaos at home?
Of course, I know the answer.
I am grateful that my daughter is so comfortable in her home that she can push and test her boundaries at home so she is confident in the outside world.
Said no mum ever.
But she is an absolute joy.
Most of the time.
When she is a joy she is the best friend ever. She is thoughtful, she is passionate. She is funny, she is caring.
She is all of us on a good day.
She is also manipulative, strategic, calculating, obstinate. And all the traits I see in the people I work with. And if I look closely, probably in me.
Why is there nothing better than raising your own child?
Someone once told me the thought of choosing not to have children is selfish.
But really, what could be more selfish than imposing two of you on the world?