Wednesday, November 30, 2011
All grown up...
Twenty three years of hugs and kisses, laughter and tears, good times and bad times. His birth was the beginning of my venture into adulthood and was probably a little earlier than my parents would have liked.
Who am I kidding; having their daughter become a first time mother at the age of 17 would never have been in my parent’s plans.
My father was horrified, my mother more of the same but at least a little more supportive and accepting. My little brother, well in my memories he took my dad’s side and neither he nor my father spoke to me much for the first few months of my pregnancy. It was a long nine months, yet my baby boy entered the world on a stinking hot Adelaide day, the very first day of summer 1988.
Newborn son, along with his daddy and I, all moved into a home unit the day after Christmas that year. It was the beginning of what was to become one big learning curve for all of us. His dad and I lasted for another 3 years together before going our separate ways. At least we remained on good terms and can still share the joy and wonder of our new grandchild.
If motherhood was hard, then single motherhood was exceptionally hard; but we battled through together my boy and I. Toddlers are notoriously difficult, yet teenagers are sent to remind us of what we did to our own parents. Payback’s a bitch and this post here is an indication of just how hard life was for eldest MM and our family through the teenage years.
We’ve come a long way, eldest and I. Good times and bad times. A stepfather and half-brothers have joined the mix, yet there’s no ‘half’ in it, because they’re just brothers through the good and the bad. My boys, they made me who I am today. They gave me the will to fight, to survive and to be somebody. I laugh now that eldest is a daddy himself, because he’s got all of this ahead of him.
My eldest is a better daddy then I could ever have hoped for and he makes me incredibly proud. It makes me realise that the hard times were all worth it. Yes we clashed, we fought, and we disagreed. We still do, although not as much these days. There’s something about the relationship between a mother and her firstborn, I’m always there for him and I know he’ll always be there for me.
For me, there was no greater joy than becoming a mother (okay, except for maybe becoming a nani)
My smiling, happy pants wearing, rebellious, lovable little man is all grown up – and has been for a number of years. Happy Birthday Adam, it’s been one heck of an adventure. Hope you have a fantastic day and I love you.
Posted by Fiona Biedermann