kate

I am in awe of my daughter. Kate turned 15 today and I just so love the person she is and will continue to grow into. I can’t even be concerned that this might just come across as a mother bleating on about how fabulous her daughter is because that would make her feel good about herself. Because it genuinely isn’t that. Kate has so much to teach me. She just has an innate sense of self beyond her years, an innate sense of fairness, a kindness that is true, she is compassionate, she is incapable of untruths, she will never let anyone down, she is a friend to all, she forgives those who are unkind, she has no need for all to like her, she is who she is and will not compromise her ideals, her sense of fairness for anyone, even if it hurts her, she has a true grasp on her ego, she puts others before herself, she allows them to be who they are, she sees the good in all, she genuinely celebrates others success and talent without ever feeling what about me. My friends know how I worry a tad that she has no competitive edge, and she doesn’t. But that’s my stuff. She has no desire to prove she is better than anyone else, to prove she is good enough, because she is already so secure in who she is.  She is noble and kind and stylish, filled with grace and never-ending dignity. She is bright, she is cheeky, she is ambitious but not greedy, she talks back, she has a twinkle, a naughty and fabulous sense of humour, she has a wonderful ability to laugh out loud, she is argumentative and yes a tad disdainful and dismissive of her parents and her sister, but appropriately so, with a love for us that oozes out her pores. I am so proud and so in awe of my daughter. I hope one day I grow up to be just like her.

one hundred and eighty two

 

I am grateful for a beautiful sunset on the beach and for that unexpected moment when two glistening dolphins decide to surf some gentle waves right near the shore. And to B for going to Sydney next week so we had to have Kate’s family birthday dinner a night early. I am grateful for unexpectedly perfect timing and silver linings.

one hundred and seventy seven

 

I never ever took my wedding ring off. Except for surgery and I’d never had any prior to my two caesarians. Not elective (not really sure why I felt the need to add that but I suspect there’s a blog in there somewhere). Anyway, when our daughters were born B wore my ring on his baby finger. And then during all my breast cancer treatments, and he still does because the chemo and ongoing medication has led to swollen joints so my ring doesn’t fit anymore. He has never taken it off from the moment he put it on for safekeeping. I am grateful for the feeling I felt this morning as my glance settled on B’s hand. I think it’s called love.

one hundred and seventy five

 

I am grateful that B and I still have moments that make the girls go ewwww. Although I have to admit it doesn’t take much. A cuddle here, a kiss there. All it took tonight was me feeding B a little cheese and pickled onion nibble. One of my favourite combinations. And only because he had his hands full doing dinner. And for that I am also grateful because B usually can’t resist an opportunity to maximise the ewwww.

one hundred and sixty nine

 

I am grateful for an exquisite last morning for Mel and her girls. And I’m grateful that not even an impossibly grumpy teenage daughter (only with me of course, but it’s not me, it has to be her, I mean I’m so calm and non reactive) could take away my joy at an early morning walk on the river. But I am especially grateful today for Mel’s visit because her calm demeanour always makes me realise how full on I am. And how accepting I have become of me.

one hundred and sixty eight

 

 

I am grateful my daughters have a father like B. Gentle, kind, firm, loving and very funny. Their hero. And extremely patient. My hero. And very very huggable.

one hundred and sixty seven

 

 

I love my girls and I love my life, but I am so grateful for time away from both. Time simply to be, to reconnect with B, to celebrate our partnership, to remember. But most especially, time just to be still.

confusing

Kate’s going on a date tonight. She looks exquisite. But she thinks she looks fat. I had a real moment. I know we all joke about how we become our mothers, but fuck, I felt like I was starring in a generational sliding doors. And not only because it’s exactly how every night out played out for me and my mom. The thing I found particularly freaky was the frustration I felt at her not hearing me. Just like I never heard my mom. I felt the very emotion I know my mom felt. It was weird. The futility. The frustration. Sometimes it really is just futile, even commenting as a mom, because they just don’t believe you. I never did. And as much as you profess (and they know it to be true) that the only one they can really rely on to be honest is you, their mom, they still don’t believe you because you are their mom and that’s why to you they are perfect. It’s quite confusing. In fact I know the only way Kate and I are ok is if I agree with her. It usually works, but clearly I can’t tonight. I daren’t. And anyway, I don’t. She looks gorgeous and she looks skinny. And that is really all that matters to her in this effed up world we inhabit. Anyway, she flew down the corridor in a huff, just like me, sorry mom, I know it never was your fault how I was feeling but I now know I knew I could take it out on you and we’d still be ok, anyway, she ran to Jem and asked her if she looked fat. Jem looked up and said nah. And that was enough for Kate. I didn’t even feel offended, I was just relieved. But I am determined to never ever ask B if I look fat in whatever I’m wearing again.