|Me with Eldest at 2 hours old|
As a mother, I personally find this difficult. I like the fact that my children are young enough to be inside our house and I know where they all are. I love the way they are growing into sociable, questioning and loving people in their own right. Yet something inside me wants to resist these changes, as much as I know I can't.
On my daughters first birthday I made her a cake in the shape of a '1' with smarties all over it. Everyone watched as she was completely oblivious to what was going on but revelled in being the centre of attention. Years have passed and today she is nine. It seems like only yesterday I was sitting in hospital grinning and saying I would "do it all again in a heartbeat." Last night she had her first sleepover party and this morning at exactly 8.10 I was sitting in the kitchen having an emotional moment thinking about the moment I became a mother, and she was upstairs laughing and joking with her friends. Oblivious, but in a totally different way.
|All of us in April 2011|
I know, I know, the parent/child bond will be there forever, but it's a different relationship. I am preparing myself for the loss of being at the centre of my children's world.
This certainty is one of my motivations for writing. In 2009 I had a great sense of time racing on. My second child started school, and I started to wonder how I would cope with not feeling "needed" to the same extent any more. I started writing with the knowledge that when my third child starts school (Jan 2012) I will feel a deep sense of loss. When I come home to an empty house, missing the chatter of my children, at least I will always have my characters to keep me company.