“Mum, when I grow up I want to be strong like Aunty Nic”
Then she paused.
“Or you. But Aunty Nic is probably stronger than you at the moment….”
“Me too,” chimed in my smallest, “but my hair will look better than yours does when you lift.”
“We know we can, because you say you can do anything when you work for it.” They concurred together…
Then one ran off to play with her Barbies and the other went to do whatever ten year old girls do in the room away from their mums.
And me?
It was all I could do to not launch myself into the street, find a random stranger and chest bump them.
Because for once, among my many parenting fails I seem to have done it right!
I’m raising my girls and boy to believe they can.
Because trust me, I have fecked up this parenting m’larkey so many times.
Like when I heard my smallest stub her toe and scream out “buggery and arse.”
I’d like to claim she got that from her Dad buy the definete northern twang on the words tells me that is pearl of wisdom came straight from her mum.
And of course there was the time when the older pair came home from school after being asked to take in a pair of tweezers each to disect a flower.
My eldest girl came home slammed her bag on the counter.
“Well you made me look a right fart (again northern twang) today mum.”
“The teacher asked me if I knew what tweezers were used for, I told her it was to get the hairs out of your chin and she couldn’t stop laughing.”
She paused for dramatic effect.
“Normal people use them for eyebrows. Now the whole school knows my mum has a beard. “
Double whammy that one. A parenting fail and self humiliation.
And of course there are the times when I’ve had “debates” with their Dad in front of them. When they have seen me sob with the frustration that life can bring. And of course the times that have seen me weak when my head has given up the game and my body has followed suit.
But still, they think I am strong.
Granted, not as strong as Aunty Nic but strong nonetheless.
And they believe they can have dreams and achieve them with the power of commitment and positive thought.
They see the calluses on my hands as marks of my ambition. The bruises on my thighs as signs that I am following my dreams. They see beauty in the gym when they watch women lift bars loaded with weights and I delight in hearing them say “wow”.
They believe biceps and abs to be something to strive for rather chest size and tiny waists.
My little girls are going to grow to be strong women. My son understands that strength doesn’t belong to one gender.
I still want to do that chest bump.
(And like my girls, I want to be as strong as Aunty Nic).
That’s totally awesome. Made my day, this post. Not that I’ve benn up for that long ~ but you know what I mean!
*Chest bump*
(Oh and I use my tweezers on my chin too. . . )