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Lovely piece


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I have a 6 year old who often breaks down in tears remembering a conversation he had with my Mum about having his own house when he's a grown up. He declares, often, that he is getting married, having one baby, and staying at home with us. Given my experience, he may have difficulties convincing his lucky wife-to-be that it's a good plan.
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On a similar theme I read this in the paper today.....


"What I wonder about is why we love our children so asymmetrically, so entirely, knowing that the very best we can hope for is that they will feel about us as we feel about our own parents: that slightly aggrieved mixture of affection, pity, tolerance and forgiveness, with a final soupcon - if we live long enough - of sorrow for our falling away, stumbling and shattered, from the vigour that once was ours."

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Oh I love it, heartbreaking about the text message... So hard to be replaced.


And Bobby's Bear - deep! When my son was born I had the massive realisation that my parents (who I get on really well with most of the time) must love me way more than I love them, as I knew the way I felt for my child was do different to how I could ever feel about them... The way it's meant to be of course but a strange, slightly sad truth nonetheless.

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Just want to reasure you that in my experience, it's not as tragic as Mrs Anonymous of the Guardian makes out. There are sadnesses of times gone that will not return, but the joy of seeing your child flourish and explore the world eclipses that. Just as when they were small there are melancholy moments, but overall, 12 and up are amazing years. You get to see a glimpse of the adult your child is becoming, and the fruits of a whole decade of parenting. Look forward to it!
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Conversation yesterday afternoon:


Me, to little Ole: 'I---'s mummy has asked me if you'd like to have a sleepover at theirs one day, would you like that?'

Little Ole: 'Yes'

Me: 'That means mummy or daddy won't be there though'

Little Ole, age 3.5: 'That's OK, I---'s mummy will look after me'

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