It is Ned's 18th birthday today. He was tucked up in our bed this morning with just his eyes and nose showing when I came back from the bathroom. I did a sort of double-take - he looked like his smaller, childish self - very sweet, bright-eyed and eager. I don't know what sort of a childhood we've managed to give him, we've never had much money, but we always had holidays until the last two years - and he's had food and clothes and a limited amount of spending money, and musical instruments and guitar lessons. So - materially he's been about OK. I hope he's had enough love to reassure him throughout adult life - and that the good memories of childhood or at least of our family life, will override the bad ones (he claims to have been shut in his room for 2 hours once - it was actually 20 minutes).
I am not sure if he is sufficiently armed for the adult world. I don't think he understands how hard one has to work to be a success. We haven't been really good role models in that way - neither of us works as hard as we should have done, and being freelance gives an impression of dolce far niente. Having a mother who sits and types in her dressing gown until midday cannot give any idea of the real working world.
And what has 18 years of motherhood done for me? I always wanted to have children (apart from a period between about 17 and 30) and so I was going to be a mother whatever happened (unless I didn't meet anyone of course, wouldn't have done it on my own). I always fought for my own identity - to be Kate and not "Ned's mum" - but the fight for identity was too hard for a long time and I just slumped, and succumbed to housework and cooking and not bothering too much. Now in the last 3 years when I have had to fight to gain a corner, I feel that I am being selfish - even though I am not taking time away from them really.
For a while Ned has been volatile and shouty and quite hostile to me - but latterly he has calmed down and been pleasant and become an agreeable companion again. We had an interesting discussion about Tracey Emin yesterday after going to the exhibition, and I recognise now that he is learning about things, and reading writers that I know nothing about. This is good - and I hope to learn much more from him. The exchange of skills will become more equal, until eventually I have nothing left to teach, while he still has lots of things to show me. Actually, I hope I will always have new things to teach and learn, but clearly he will be the one who is more engaged with the world than me. When he was small people always said how "close" we were, but that diminished with the arrival of Finn - however hard I tried to give Ned attention, he was really resentful of Finn (and still is) and quite angry with me for inflicting Finn on him. Now, I hope, we will become closer again. He is likely to be at home for another year before he goes to university, which I hope will be a pleasant time.
I am not sure if he is sufficiently armed for the adult world. I don't think he understands how hard one has to work to be a success. We haven't been really good role models in that way - neither of us works as hard as we should have done, and being freelance gives an impression of dolce far niente. Having a mother who sits and types in her dressing gown until midday cannot give any idea of the real working world.
And what has 18 years of motherhood done for me? I always wanted to have children (apart from a period between about 17 and 30) and so I was going to be a mother whatever happened (unless I didn't meet anyone of course, wouldn't have done it on my own). I always fought for my own identity - to be Kate and not "Ned's mum" - but the fight for identity was too hard for a long time and I just slumped, and succumbed to housework and cooking and not bothering too much. Now in the last 3 years when I have had to fight to gain a corner, I feel that I am being selfish - even though I am not taking time away from them really.
For a while Ned has been volatile and shouty and quite hostile to me - but latterly he has calmed down and been pleasant and become an agreeable companion again. We had an interesting discussion about Tracey Emin yesterday after going to the exhibition, and I recognise now that he is learning about things, and reading writers that I know nothing about. This is good - and I hope to learn much more from him. The exchange of skills will become more equal, until eventually I have nothing left to teach, while he still has lots of things to show me. Actually, I hope I will always have new things to teach and learn, but clearly he will be the one who is more engaged with the world than me. When he was small people always said how "close" we were, but that diminished with the arrival of Finn - however hard I tried to give Ned attention, he was really resentful of Finn (and still is) and quite angry with me for inflicting Finn on him. Now, I hope, we will become closer again. He is likely to be at home for another year before he goes to university, which I hope will be a pleasant time.
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