Happy, Happy Mother’s Day. Today is the day we say thank you to the woman who created us in her belly. Mothers love us more than anyone can and at the same time drive us completely mental. Even though I was the world’s most revolting teenager my mother would run in front of a train to save me. I’d do the same for my daughters, even though they think I’m bonkers and I make them crazy some days. I love you Mama. Thank you for having me and loving me. And for making your pavlova, no one has ever whipped up a pav better than you Barbara Pollard.
Teenagers are like Queensland, beautiful one day, a nightmare the next.
On Saturday my 14 year daughter glanced down at her floor-drobe. She had nothing to wear but clothes that were fashionable at breakfast time. All this while I turn into an aging cougar. Except that I am the anti-cougar, the tracksuit pants wearing tragedy in tired trainers, wishing I had some energy left over from mothering and working to desire a makeover.
This week teenage beast cleaned up her floor-drobe and turned into an interior design fascist. She wants me to be the queen of minimalism on a single mother budget. If her sisters place so much as a Barbie on the floor she screams.
She is also a control freak about the music we listen to at home. I mention the Bee Gees and she looked blank. I said,
“Back when dinosaurs roamed the earth there were three brothers who wore tight white pants and hair-drier-fluffy-wind-blown hair singing falsetto disco hits.”
“Shit mum, they sound Palaeolithic.” There is no one more hip than a teenager and no one who has ever suffered more.
So I dedicate this song to her. Whether you’re a mother or whether you’re a brother…..