last day alone
Technically, I haven’t been alone the past year, but at least without company over the age of 1 most of the time. And today is my last day. When J comes home tonight he has two months of paternity leave. Tomorrow we leave for a much-needed vacation and then in a fortnight it is back to work for me.
9 months and 15 days ago I became someone’s mother. In the beginning I didn’t have a clue what I was doing, but along the way I learned to make it look like I did. 9 months and 12 days ago we brought home our daughter and started a life that – I admit it – was little like I imagined and a lot like something I could never have imagined.
She’s crawling and eating (but not scrambled eggs I just found out) and saying funny sounds and pointing and clapping. And she has her mother’s temper and sometimes that makes me want to die and other times I smile (secretly, can’t tell my husband) because she is mine and nobody is ever going to tell her what to do, because if they do she will scream their heads off. (And of course that’s no good. Of course.)
I am someone’s mother. First I will read and then in time I will recommend books. I will be the one introducing her to diary writing and to writing down what books you read so you can always go back and look when you read something. Some day I will tell her not to mix beer and wine (and she will not care one bit) and to be home before midnight. And some day she will introduce me to the most horrible boyfriend I can imagine and I will put on my best face and welcome him in the family. And when she realises what a bad choice he was, I will be there to tell her that we all make mistakes, but it is all just part of learning and I was once there too. I will teach her how to bake, I will teach her the importance of changing your sheets regularly and of travelling with a pair of flats.
This isn’t my last day alone. I haven’t been alone these past 9 months and 15 days. And I will never be alone again. No matter what happens, I will always have her.