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When I think about life as a parent, I think about my two wonderful children, a boy and girl aged 12 and 10 respectively. I reflect on the ups and downs that the years have delivered since they came along and pose the question many an honest parent has pondered in their darkest hour....
"Would I do it all over again and if I had a choice would I send them back where they came from?"
The obvious answer, of course, is "NO - they are MUCH bigger now, and definitely wouldn't fit!"
The more serious, and after all us grown ups MUST be serious mustn't we... so the more serious question is what would life be like if I could snap my fingers and suddenly be child free and carefree?
After the general "yiperdee doodah I'm FREEEE" and general merriment had died down and I had got bored with disposing of that suddenly available extra disposable income no longer needed for school trips, computer games and pictures of Guy Sebastian how would I feel?
What would it be like to have a house that was as tidy as you left it when you last walked out to go to work? What would it be like to be a free-range chooky all over again; to have all those hours to spend on coffee strips, all those unrestricted choices?
Speaking of which, I am reminded of a good friend with whom I shared my flat foot and pregnant days. Despite the fact that she was a wonderful person and a great friend it was my duty to hate her on account of her being 5 feet 10 tall, slim (apart from the bump of course), and completely gorgeous. She had committed the ultimate sin by failing to blow up a la barrage balloon like the rest of the women in our anti natal group including, of course, yours truly!
My dear friend arrived at the hospital to birth her first born and many hours into the proceedings, at 8cms dilated (that's nearly but, exasperatingly, not quite ready to push for the non parents among us!) she became overwhelmed and distressed by the intensity of it all. After a particularly difficult contraction she got up off the labour bed and was seen heading swiftly for the door yelling
"I've had enough of this! I'm NOT doing this ANY MORE, I'm going home!"
Ah, but what choice did she have I hear you cry, especially as it took two midwives and her husband to drag her back into the room to complete the task nature had intended for her!
And this, my friends, is the crux of it. We may labour under the illusion (pun intended) that we are in control of our lives, but in truth the dynamics change as soon as you utter those three magic words
"Honey, I'm pregnant"
From labour through to footing the bill for their weddings and uni. fees - from keeping watch over a sick toddler with a sky high fever to pretending you are asleep when they roll in at 2 am having just got their drivers license, life as a parent is never going to be the same again.
Would I change it?
Ask me when I've just had to read the Riot Act about the bedroom floor for the 53 rd time, or I've discovered a month old lunch box tucked away somewhere at the bottom of a school bag and I might be tempted....
Ask me when I have fended off the latest pre teen tantrum, been nagged for a solid month about a vital Warhammer/Gameboy/Nintendo purchase that EVERBODY ELSE has and don't-I-understand-how-they-will-be-cast-out-for-not- possessing-same.... and I might be offering to sell them for a special bargain price...
But just like my old buddy in the labour room, I'd have to admit, when the chips are down, to a pressing feeling of frequent and insistent waves (damn them) of an overpowering feeling; that of unconditional love.
Parenting is the hardest job I'll ever do, but I cannot think of a richer, more awesome and challenging experience than having been given the honour of shepherding my two wonderful spirits into adulthood.
So here's hoping they don't hate me too much as they go through their teenage years. Here's hoping they don't get lip piercings and they keep safe in the wake of the drug culture. Here's hoping they grow to be passionate, compassionate and joyful adults who are equipped to deal with a turbulent world with integrity.
Here also is hoping they never grow out of being embarrassed by their mother who is prone to bouts of singing and dancing in the supermarket - well, what can I say... A mother has to have a weapon of some kind up her sleeve does she not?!
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