There you are.
We’ve been through a patch of rocky ground, my small family and I, for which I take full responsibility. Yet through perseverance, dedication and downright stubbornness, I think we are approaching the other side.
At the same time, there has been much worthy of celebration, much growth and, you know, life goes on. Little A is turning 5 at the end of the month, and is more independent, willful and beautiful than ever. J is 6 and a bit, as caring, insightful, and concerned, and equally, though remarkably differently, beautiful. I am absolutely gob smacked by them. They are so completely their own people, with their lives separate from me, creatures I feel I have had little hand in creating, only delivering and caring for.
I know it is a biological imperative that they adore me, no matter how great it feels to know that they do. But then they do stuff, for good or bad, that is all me, and I think, nature or nurture, I have passed on something here, I have changed the world.
It is all I can do to contemplate the power I have invested in me, continuing to mold these young minds simply by choosing how they spend their time, their influences and stimulations. Or, at least the awesome job of trying to protect them as they venture out into the wider world. It’s terrifying.
But, you know, keep on swimming. And they keep on growing. And so do I.