Back in 2004, when my sons, Callan and Brad, were one and three, I began writing a weekly column documenting the ups, down, and hazardous laundry baskets of family life. Now those little chicks are teenagers who are fleeing the nest, leaving behind a mother with soggy feathers (no, I wasn’t weeping tears of woe, there was something in my eye) and a collection of tales about getting it right, getting it wrong, mortifying mistakes, disastrous summer holidays, childhood milestones, Christmas catastrophes, things that made me laugh and, in the case of nativity plays and eight bouts of chickenpox, the things that made me cry.
These are my favourite stories, spanning pregnancy, babyhood, toddlerdom, school years (when I changed their names to Low The Elder and Low The Younger to protect their privacy), and now the bit when they leave home and I adopt a veneer of stoic encouragement while wondering what to do with the empty room, the extra free time and the cash saved on the weekly food bill.
Whether you’re pregnant for the first time, or already have a brood of adult children, I hope you’ll find something here that will make you smile and nod in recognition.
And boys, if you’re reading this, don’t hold any of the mishaps against me. We made it to adulthood and you’re still talking to me. You turned out great. I’d do it all again. And you’ll be fine as long as you remember the lessons I taught you…
Your mother is allowed to be embarrassing.
Everyone has cute childhood memories that make them blush. Although most of yours do involve pants.
And, obviously, your mamma is always right… because I said so.