Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Biting my nails when I should be writing an article

My mother
has raised three children, and here we all are, healthy and well;
My mother
can change a nappy and scrape half a kilo of pumpkiny poo into the toilet without blinking;
My mother
has been around two days a week, every week, since my children were born;
My mother
gets the squirming, delighted, full-body smile of welcome from the twins that is otherwise only bestowed on Lovergirl and I;
My mother
adores my children with the indulgent, all-accepting love peculiar to grandparents.

Why then, as she disappears up the street with my babies in their pram, on their first ever excursion without me,* do I feel so anxious?

*They're only going for an hour! Or an hour and a half, max. But do you know all the things that can happen in an hour?

4 comments:

Elsewhere007 said...

hmm...you're scared they'll gang up on you? you know, that grandparent/grandchild bond?

Kelly & Sam Pilgrim-Byrne said...

I completely understand this fear! It's totally irrational but so, so, real...

Deborah said...

I still get that fear. And they're nine and seven and seven now. Not my mother, you understand. She's sixty-six.

It's less intense now, and not so urgent, but I think that's just because I have had a bit of practice. However it really is still there, lurking.

They will be back, and they will launch themselves at you, thrilled and delighted and oh so pleased to see you.

Mikhela said...

Elsewhere...you know that slight wringing in your stomach when someone else is looking after your cats? That they couldn't possibly do it as well as you? And have they remembered that Sooty is allergic to salmon and Tibbs doesn't like to be outside after dark...?

It's like that.