I struggle to realise some days that I'm a 34-year-old mother and wife. Most days I feel like a... ah well something a lot younger and a lot less responsible.
I chuckle to myself when I'm emailing as part of the parents committee at preschool. I think to myself, 'Do they think I'm actually a responsible parent? Able to be part of a committee? And like, make decisions?' I feel like a fraud. Yet, here I am. I even signed up to bake something for the welcome night tonight. Bake something. Me. Crazy world we live in.
Maybe it comes from growing up youngest in my family. I took on the role of not having to be responsible with gusto. Not that I'm irresponsible, of course, just that all this 'responsible' stuff always fell to someone else. Someone older.
I remember when Lil-lil was born, at about 2am we were shown our room, I was told to get into bed and go to sleep. The midwife started out the door and I was thinking 'They can't just leave me here with a baby. Surely we need some kind of monitor or something. I have no idea what I'm doing. This just isn't safe.'
Every step of the way, I've muddled my way through this parenting gig, thinking someone was about to tap me on the shoulder and say: 'You really have no idea what you're doing, do you?'
Even Goosey just asked me: 'Why are you playing with those clothes?' as I put a load of washing on. Even she can see that I'm just make-believing this grown-up family stuff.
Skip goes off to work in his suit, being a business man. The kids are running around. Tell me, how did I become a grown up?
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I don't think that any of us ever do feel like grown-ups {except those people who are old before their time...} Every major milestone I think: this is it! This mortgage/baby/marriage/home renovation/new car will make me feel like a grown-up, and it does, for a minute until I realise I'm just playing...
ReplyDeleteI read something that said "Inside every old person is a young person wondering what happened". I still feel as if I am pretending to be a grown up too and just cannot believe that I am over 40. It's weird isn't it?
ReplyDeleteI remember the day I brought Liam home from the hospital. I was only 20 years old and my mom got ready to leave me around 11pm. She kissed me goodbye and said she's see me the next morning. As the door closed behind her, my heart started racing and panic ensued. I looked at Liam's father and said "Call my mother right this minute. Tell her to come back. I don't know what to do with this baby!"
ReplyDeleteFlash forward almost 17 years and that little baby got a letter inviting him to come visit Stanford Law School.
Does this mean I did ok? And by the way, where did my life go? Did it run away from me with yours?
xoxo
nah - we never grew up rin! We're still 5 on the inside!! xx
ReplyDeleteThat is amazing news Eleanor! Well done to you - and your boy!
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I feel the same. I am the youngest in the family and I totally rode on everyone else's coat tails. I remember thinking "They will never let me just take this baby home: I mean, I had to work for my pen license at school, and this is a whole different story!"
ReplyDeleteI occasionally like to think of myself not as a mum, but as the cute older sister. There has to be some way to explain my penchant for hoodies.
This is gorgeous Corinne and no you're not alone, I often laugh to myself that I am in fact the grown up now. Who would ever have thought?!
ReplyDeleteThat is so true about that first night with your newborn, it's almost like you're expecting someone to show you exactly what to do every step of the way... like the whole world has nothing better to do with their time!
Lucy's comment just made me spit my tea out laughing! x
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