While we were driving home from another family get together last night - we went and had dinner with my Dad and he was one happy man. He loves nothing more than seeing his kids and grandkids and I always promise that I will do it more often and then that bloody thing called Life gets in my way. This time, I really need to make more of an effort to make this happen though. He doesn't ask for much so how hard can it be for us to get together once a month ...
Oh sorry about that. Had to get that thought down obviously.
Anyway, as I was saying, we were driving home when Miss Tween started asking me about what I wanted to be when I grew up.
"A mum," I replied.
She rephrased the question asking about all the times I had danced overseas and what about when I was really little and I again repeated my answer.
"So you never wanted to be anything else?" she asked.
And I thought really hard. Because, surely, as a young child or even a teen or young adult there must have been something else I had wanted to be? Wasn't there?
Nope. Unless you count, of course, my secret desire to be a star on Young Talent Time or Neighbours, I guess.
Or an accountant perhaps?
All of these were fleeting thoughts though and, when I look back at the amount of times I made my younger brother play with my dolls - he was always Uncle Scott for the record. His favourite name at the time obviously - and the day I got my first baby doll (for the life of me I can't remember her name now which is surprising for me. Maybe it changed a lot. I never was very good at making decisions) all wrapped up in a bunny rug in her brand new pram, I am certain that was always my heart's desire.
I did want the happily ever after. I did want the white wedding and to feel like a princess for a day! I did want the 2.5 kids - Well actually, I wanted 2. Not sure how/who changed that part of the plan. I did want the white picket fence (a little different to our compound style fencing. Ha!). I wanted it all.
And Miss Tween said "So you just wanted to be a mum."
And it broke my heart a little that, as with a lot of people, she sees me as just a mum. Just.
It's a word that makes us seem so dispensable, replaceable, unimportant. And I'm sure she (and a lot of other people) don't mean it that way when they say it - I may have even said it myself once or twice - but you can't help but feel that little sting.
I didn't try to correct her. She is still too young to understand. One day when she becomes just a mum, she will know. She will know what being just a mum entails.
And although I wouldn't change a single thing ...
... for a mere second I thought how easy it would be to be just an accountant.