A Moment of Motherhood

I had quite the wholesome motherhood moment the other day. I’ll set the scene. Firstly, the kids were being a nightmare, so they’d had their phones confiscated. This always causes more uproar for about 20 minutes, but once you get through that pain barrier they’re really nice people on the other side. I sat them at the table. The eldest has learning disability so she was practicing handwriting using one of those books where you trace over the letters. Younger kids often use them. She loves it. Great.

The youngest who never does any drawing or colouring sat colouring Pokémon from an old colouring book I found in a cupboard. So far so good. It’s all gone very Enid Blyton. I started to do some filing at the kitchen island. Spotify was playing Taylor Swift. Everyone busily beavering away. Suddenly I honed in on their conversation.

The eldest not bothered, “Do you think it’s OK that Taylor sings the word 'f**k' in some of her songs? I do, because she sings it in context and she’s trying to emphasise the words.” Then the youngest, “I’m not sure. Her audience is quite a young demographic and maybe those kids won’t have learned what’s acceptable or not yet. So they could say it at school and get into trouble.”

Now I was shaking with silent laughter when I heard their chat, but they didn’t notice and I didn’t want to interrupt them either. I’m sure that mother in Enid Blyton would have banned them lashings of ginger beer for weeks or whatever horrific punishments she dealt out, but I was so proud of them both. Beautifully argued points – both with validity and consideration. Still chuckling and just for that moment, I felt like I’d won at motherhood.

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