It is a well-known fact of life that at some stage in your mothering you will begin to reminisce about the good old days when your child was the cutest baby on earth. Quite often these stories surface during a milestone event like an 18th birthday, 21st birthday or when getting married. My nostalgia has decided not to wait and I have been indulging in ‘how cute you were’ stories to my 15 year old in recent weeks.
A reasonable degree of introspection and a constant one-sided inner monologue has assessed this awakening of memories followed by an onslaught of nostalgia down to the fact that my daughter is in her GCSE year. This means that she is in her last school year of wearing a uniform. I am that sort of sentimental soppy mother who recognises every first and last. I cried buckets when I dressed her in her uniform for the first time 11 years ago. I digress.
I was telling my daughter yesterday about how I used to put her to sleep on the sofa mid-morning when she was newly born and rush off to have a shower. My hair went unwashed for upto a week sometimes because I was afraid that she would wake up and suffer some trauma from me not being there. Said teenager’s answer to this memory was: ‘Why did you have a shower while I was sleeping? That wasn’t safe was it?’