AS A child, there were many things I thought I would turn into when I was “bigger”. For a while there I thought I would be the first fully professional BMX Bandit (Nicole Kidman beat me to it). Then I thought I’d make a good Prime Minister (I didn’t even make the school council). I also thought I’d be the first white Michael Jordan (I ended up closer resembling the first white Steve Urkel).
However, there’s definitely one thing I didn’t think I’d turn into when I grew up … and that was: MY MOTHER! Yes, you heard right. As time progresses as a parent, I fear – in fact, dread – I am turning into my mum.
Don’t get me wrong, there are worse things in the world to turn into (a Carlton supporter for one), but it’s a little disconcerting for a bloke in his late 30s to suddenly find himself channeling a lady with a penchant for Tupperware, knitting and candied ginger.
This phenomenon occurred to me the other day when I was scolding Princess Ella, whose three-year-old tantrums are making the “terrible twos’’ seem like a full body massage with a Pina Colada chaser. Tired of Ella’s rebellion, I launched into a lecture. “Ella, there are two words you have to stop saying – `no’ and ‘I don’t want to’,’’ I said. At the end of the sentence I realised the stupidity of what I’d just said and couldn’t help but burst into laughter. Ella looked at me like I was weird.
In hindsight though, something scared me. What I’d just said sounded completely like something my mum would have said. It was at THAT moment it occurred to me, as a parent, I was more like my mum than my dad.
Already Kel has caught me several times calling Ella “Holly” and Holly “Ella” – something my mum is famous for. Mind you, she had seven kids and I have two. Also, my version of discipline is pathetic, much like my mums. My siblings reckoned I had my mother wrapped around my little finger and, if that’s the case, then karma is a bitch. Kellie is constantly onto me because I no sooner threaten Ella than I give her chocolate and a cuddle. Wrong, I know, but I can’t help it.
Since this devastating revelation, I have come to terms with my path in life. I resolve that if indeed I am turning into my mum, I shall dedicate my future spare time to learning the difference between “knit” and “purl”. I am also now in the market for some mauve skivvies.
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Then hop on over and visit Where’s My Glow?, where Kel is guest posting today.
Lastly, if you want to read about more daddy blogs, check out Reservoir Dad, who is putting together a list of Aussie dad bloggers today (direct link will be put up as soon as available).
I think we all turn into our mums – both men and women! But what a great person to turn into – or out like! Be proud! And 7 kids? She is a legend!!! Great read….
Elisha you are damn right. She is a legend. If I’m half as good a dad as she was a mum, my princesses are in pretty good shape 🙂
Love your writing style. But according to Kel’s guest post on where’s my glow, you need to stop putting things on the roof of the car :p
I can’t stop putting things on the car roof! It’s like I have a blockage in the part of my brain which stops me from being an idiot …… I did it again the other day in the garage and shouted at myself “Stop putting things on the car roof”. I’m not sure the neighbours heard me, but can only imagine what they would be thinking if they did!
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