Tuesday, May 15, 2007

The one where I overuse "seven"

Small Person turns seven next week. Seven!

I don't quite understand how I came to be the parent of a seven-year-old. I mean, I understand the technical side (even as I am, as ever, slightly incredulous at the thought that the Ex and I ever did that). But, seven? No front teeth and obsessed with kittens and nearly ready for That Talk about, you know, the facts of life? Incredible.


She's all sass and sweetness, is my girl. By turns hilarious and infuriating (and those two states are pretty much interchangeable at the moment), I look at her sometimes and wonder how I came to be the mother of such an amazing creature.

Seven years ago, I was extremely pregnant, and extremely unhappy. The Ex and I were pretty much sick of the sight of each other and, as if a house populated by tired, huge, hormonal, irritated/irritating people wasn't enough to contend with, my mother came to stay. For three weeks. I'm sure I don't have to elaborate too much on why this was a bad thing.

She ruined the last two weeks of my pregnancy. When I went into labour, she stalked us around the hospital, having been expressly forbidden from coming to the hospital in the first place. She haunted the corridors like a grey-haired vampire in sandals, at one point having to be evicted from a lurking-spot right outside the delivery room. She visited me on the ward approximately thirty seconds after I wince-waddled my way back there, following a slightly disconcerting bath*. When the Ex and I brought Small Person back from the hospital she was waiting in the living room, offering sage advice on everything from how high to have the heating to no-you-don't-hold-her-like-THAT. Which was a bit rich really, considering she has no discernible parenting skills herself.

Not a good time, all things considered.

Fast forward seven years. The Other Half arrives home from work and Small Person rushes downstairs to give him a hug and a kiss. Our house is warm and safe and the people in it love each other**). I will always feel sad that Small Person went through the trauma of her parents divorcing, but she loves me and she loves her dad and she loves the Other Half (her Not-Dad). And yes, she has driven me mad this evening, but just before bed she gave me a fragrant, bath-warm cuddle and told me in her Very Serious Voice that I am the Best Mummy In The World. So, I must be doing alright, really.

Either that, or that time I dropped her on her head as a baby*** did more damage than we first thought.

* Seriously, I wasn't expecting to find out that that happened when you gave birth. Someone should have warned me.

** We don't love the woman next door, however, who is listening to what sounds suspiciously like a Bedingfield very loudly indeed.

*** Of course I made that up. Durr.

15 Comments:

Blogger Doris chimed in with...

I know exactly how you feel. I went through similar incredulity earlier this year when my daughter turned 18. How can I be the mother of an 18 year old? Surely I am still only 18 myself?

15 May, 2007 22:11  
Blogger First Nations chimed in with...

mines 22 and has a three year old. i win the pissing contest! yay!
*purchases more dye*

15 May, 2007 22:21  
Blogger Lardy Big Bot chimed in with...

I accidently sprayed my 7 year old in the face with Cif when he was a baby, ran him under the tap and he is ok.
I had the same 'oh-my-god-you-are-7' epiphany last night before he had a bath whilst he was running around being a 'naked-ninja'. He is so tall...'up to your boobies Mummy' and so clever I can hardly believe a mental case like me managed to produce him.

16 May, 2007 08:09  
Blogger funny thing chimed in with...

Insert man-bit, give birth, wait seven years. Easy-peasy, as far as I can see.

*legs it*

16 May, 2007 10:34  
Blogger Eliza chimed in with...

aw that was a lovely post. i don't want kids for a good 5 years but reading that made me sure i DO want them!

16 May, 2007 10:48  
Anonymous Toomuchgrief chimed in with...

Presumably a trampoline for a present then?

16 May, 2007 12:48  
Anonymous Femme chimed in with...

I am with you Surly, how the hell did they get to this age?

We were merrily drinking and singing Fairytale of New York.

Badly. (Yes, BADLY).

Then,Baby C was skidding down your stairs and cutting his head clean off on your radiator(!!) The next Day, you had small person, The following day I had Dudey L (and a couple extra for good measure) and now suddenly we are here. Fuck. That's what I call a hangover.

Happy Birthday Small Person. xxx

16 May, 2007 13:14  
Blogger GreatSheElephant chimed in with...

Trampoline? Some people really won't let things go.

My father dropped me on my head when I was a baby. Explains a lot really.

16 May, 2007 18:51  
Blogger Homer chimed in with...

WHAT happens when you have a baby? Nobody will tell me!

Are numbers involved?

16 May, 2007 20:19  
Blogger Eden chimed in with...

Oh that best mummy in the world thing gets you every time. My eight year-old said something similar to me this evening -- wish I could remember what I had accidentally done right so I can repeat it.

16 May, 2007 21:21  
Anonymous rivergirlie chimed in with...

the reason they don't tell you about * (or that other thing!) is that no-one would ever have a baby again and the world would come to an end. the twins just turned 13! how scary is that? a double dose of hormones in the house just when i thought i was running out.

17 May, 2007 08:25  
Anonymous sablonneuse chimed in with...

My 'children' are 33 and 35.
I remember the 'talk' bit when I pre-empted the school by showing them the school by hiring the sex education film myself and showing it to them at home. When it had finished I turned off the projector and asked if they had any questions. 'Yeah' said son, 'Can I rewind the film on the projector?'
Daughter asked if we could wrap some more Christmas presents.
Kids . . . . .

18 May, 2007 12:15  
Blogger Teeny chimed in with...

Oh my god, I've not had babies yet either - WHAT happens?!

I need to know so I can prepare/swear off ever having kids.

18 May, 2007 14:00  
Blogger bedshaped chimed in with...

Kids are everything.

19 May, 2007 00:02  
Blogger khlari chimed in with...

Yeah, they are great, except when in one sentence they tell you you are the loveliest mummy in the world then in the next tell other half (who is not her daddy either as he is mad, and lives in France)how Mummy is cuddly but has two bellies then they BOTH collapse laughing on the floor. Mine's eight, going on eighteen.....

I'm going to buy more hair-dye, invest in more expensive make-up and start saving now for the liposuction

13 June, 2007 14:44  

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