Friday, 22 April 2016

awesome: why I'm going to keep saying my kids are awesome

My kids are awesome.

What a thing to say!

But it's my job to think my kids are awesome, and when I was recently asked to quickly state five things I think, 'my kids are awesome' was up there.

We had to quickly write down five things I think (and various other lists of five things) at a creative writing workshop I went to recently. These were mine. My apologies that some of it is illegible.
But I'm reminded of a friend reading my 17 year old self's diary (with my permission, and with me in the room). She pointed out that a the end of every entry, every day, I wrote something like 'I love my boyfriend so much.' Almost like a prayer, she said. Almost like I was trying to convince myself.

I wasn't trying to convince myself, but perhaps I was trying to solidify that love for my future, because what she didn't know, and what I only then suspected, was that a year later I'd be marrying him to make myself a new family.

A little objectivity might have been a good thing.

So what about 'my kids are awesome?' Is that a prayer? Am I trying to convince myself?

Nah. They are awesome. They're maddening too (I shan't list the ways), and if they were someone else's kids I'm sure I'd find them more annoying than I sometimes do, but beyond being family, I really like them all as people.

Me and Mr 10. I'm not sure whose hair is cooler.
Mr 10 is smartand kind, and a complicated soul. I love him to bits, feel fiercely protective of him, and hugely honoured that I still get hugs, that I'm still the one he comes to when he's hurting. He's got a great bunch of mates too, and I often have a houseful of polite, thoughtful lads. The boy is doing good.

Miss 8 and one of her favourite rocks.
Miss 8 is composed and charming and is the first person in a very long time that I've enjoyed going shopping with. She chooses 'girly' activities, as well as walks and cycling, and she makes things fun. I can't wait until we can chatter over a glass of Prosecco and a long lunch.

Miss 5, eating a chocolate rice cake. The cat litter tray is in the background of this pic, but she's still gorgeous.
Miss 5 is funny and wild and I admire her strength of character. She is forever testing boundaries, which encourages me to do the same. She tests me too, and is proof, even from her birth that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Yet amongst all her fierceness there is a loving warmth which makes it easy for her to make and keep friends, and lets her get away with murder, which is handy...

So yes, my kids are awesome, and if I repeat it it's because I know we have to grow apart. They must survive the horrors of puberty, and come of age. They have to think that their parents are boring to help them make that leap out of the nest, in time.

I want to hold on to the good in them even when they're driving me crazy. I want to always be a safe refuge for them when times get tough.

Why? Because my kids are awesome.