6 months down the
line… my girls wear shoes!!!
In fact, they’re
becoming down right wusses.
Am I doing the right
thing? A question every mother asks herself, so I might as well relax. My
impulsive personality and rash decisions can only be character building for my
girls, right…? Perhaps the “MOM! Stop dancing when you’re driving!!!!!” or “yes,
I’d love a drink please, I drink red like my mother” (that’s grape juice to her
for your FYI) is proof enough that I’m raising them into strong minded, very
strong minded, well, bloody strong minded women , so just about ready for total
independence. (wishful thinking…)
Europe, on the other
hand, may not be ready.
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| photo credit: Patrick Bréban |
My girls eat baby
octopus and raw meat to shock their friends.
Being a single mother
is hard. We have to cut ourselves
some slack. In fact I’m writing this with two children pinching and throwing
roller skates at each other. Am I bothered? I haven’t hit red yet.
Wait for it…
…she tied my hair to the barbie house…
Anyway. What was I
saying? No idea. But I did find my phone in the fridge this morning!!! Didn’t raise
an eyebrow. Oh, no-one called anyway.
…hey! Why did you kick me? Because your head
was where my foot needed to be…
So, what happens when
you’re a single mother, need to have 3 loads of laundry done, food shopping sorted,
the kitchen floor spot wiped as you step in sticky stuff… before you can sit
down to your first translation job of the day? Which is precisely when your
little one decided she’s going to die of starvation on the couch if you don’t
feed her immediately. And you consider pouring yourself some wine but feel you
shouldn’t really as most people aren’t even awake yet (well, it’s dark outside,
where I come from, it’s either night time or after party time… Europe is just
asking for trouble like that, right?) Chill. You’ve already done before dawn what
most people do in a day.
Just know this. Kids adapt.
It’s quite extraordinary. I have thrown mine twice in a new school with a totally
unknow language and within 3 months they were fluent. I wonder when they’ll run
out of memory space? So. Next stop… Spain? Brazil???
I joke, but it’s hard.
The tears roll when Social Media shares a memory of us with our pets left
behind, sat by the pool on a hot summer’s day. Yet today I just tried to make
merry of scraping the ice of the windscreen. Fighting this need everyone has
here to put you in some sort of box “ what do you do?” Everything, anything. “But
what did you study?” It was 20 years ago, who cares?! I started 2 businesses
since then, I can do pretty much whatever you have to offer. “We could offer
you a window cleaning job. Do you have the appropriate diploma? And health and
safety training?” Yes! Of course. My
girls are alive and healthy. That says a lot, trust me. Please let me climb a two-story
building, I need a break.
The task is
monumental. Going grocery shopping is monumental. But what am I saying? All
mothers know what I’m talking about, don’t you…? The fight over who sits in the
fricking trolley. The playing catch in the isle and narrowly missing the
bottles on the lower shelf…. Me sitting in the passenger seat of my car looking
like a lemon because I’m still not used to left hand driven cars.
And finally getting
home with everything but what you need. A tin of peas, some lolly pops and a
box of paracetamol. Bon appetit!
But I’d rather have my
2 girls with their independent, wild, yet very mature nature over any other
child their age. They are amazing. Sensitive, an eye for nature and beauty,
story tellers (ahem. Rolling eye emoji) and chameleons who fit everywhere and
nowhere, just like their mother.
They’re alive.
High Five.
And a wonderful 2019 to all of you!
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