Growing up whenever anyone asked me what I wanted to be I’d tell them proudly I wanted to be a mum.
It was the only thing that mattered to me.
My dolls in their pushchairs were never far away.
I was going to have one called Megan and one called Elenore and we would spend our days doing craft projects, exploring nature and giggling all the time.
But it didn’t really work out like that.
First off my baby girl didn’t look like a Megan. And from 6 weeks old I was left bringing her up on my own as her dad worked away so I was pretty wiped out most of the time to do all the fun stuff.
And when the next one came along he was definitely not an Elenore.
For the last 4 months of my pregnancy with him I was having to provide care for their dad after an accident as well as keep the kids entertained. Tidying the house was the last thing on my mind especially letting dreaded glitter get anywhere near. And pushing a wheelchair with a baby strapped to my chest and chasing after a toddler kinda put me off leaving the house for a bit so there was no adventures in the wild.
But we did find time to giggle. That was a promise I did manage to keep.
By the time my son was in his terrible twos I had started running my florist shop. It was pretty much 6 days a week and paperwork in the evenings. They got ferried off to a childminder. So time for the kids became less and less.
The following year I became a single mum and carried on juggling it all on my own.
And you know, I think we did alright considering.
We made a good team.
I was pretty strict, but it ment the kids were so well behaved in public.
Everyone told me what a pleasure they were to be around. And they were always willing to help a hand in the shop when I was busy.
And I was so proud of them then and I still am now.
Of course they can be twats occasionally, but then they’re teens. And all teens are twats. But when I hear the horror stories some of my friends have experienced I know I’m damn lucky!
I’m so proud of my daughter. She’s performed in a number of plays and has the voice of an angel.
She’s had a pretty rough ride when it comes to friends, but she’s held her ground, stuck true to herself and has a strength that I can only envy.
And one day I know I’ll see her name in lights and all the lost souls who are scared of being themselves will have her as their role model.
And I’m super proud of my boy too. We had a little wobble when he was about 7, but then he suddenly adapted into a super bright kid. Some of his subjects have come easy to him, he’s a fierce and loyal friend, sticks up for his sister (as long as no one’s looking). He’s a bit of an entrepreneur too and self taught himself different technologies which he will now be studying at uni which I know he’ll ace, and he’s a pretty damn good cook. To be honest they both are.
I think the world will be a better place with their shining lights in it.
All things considered I think I was a pretty good mum. Obviously not all the time, I’m not Mary Poppins! But we did ok.
And we were so close to them stepping out in the big wide world.
Being independent.
Taking on the nexchapter.
And …as if perfectly timed, I, their mother have derailed.
Not just a little hiccup, but monumentally.
I’ve taught them to hide behind alcohol when things get though or the pains too bad. I’ve taught the to be devious like hiding blades around the house so you control the narrative when you don’t feel in control. And I’ve taught them when things get too tough or confusing to just cut your wrists and hope it all goes away.
And if that doesn’t work they give you enough meds to knock you out so your obvious to everything anyway.
I’ve seen friends go through social services where their kids were taken away when they were little and they’ve had to fight to get them back or just fight for basic contact.
I was always grateful that wasn’t me. But this last two weeks I’ve questioned if I’m fit to be their mother. Is my toxic drip dripping into them and leading them to a path like mine.
I’ve never been more scared in my life than I am right now as I’m desperate to not fuck them up.
They’re too precious to end up like me.
The world needs them both so it can be a better place.
I just need to keep it together for another 6 months. Please tell me I can do this!