Write a letter to your mom. Tell her something you’ve always wanted to say, but haven’t been able to.
My mum is one of the few people I know in real life who actually reads my blog. Mostly because she’s super nosy. So, hi, mum! I can’t think of any epic secrets to confess, but here’s a letter anyway. Most of these apply to both you and dad. Except the cleaning; that’s definitely you.
Dear mum [because I’m not American] and dad,
Just a quick note to say thanks for the following: [yes, I have been writing too many work emails]
- Always finding things for me when I threw tantrums. (I’m slightly embarrassed that I never quite seemed to grow out of this one.)
- Paying for my keyboard lessons and exams. And all the dance classes. And Rainbows, Brownies and Guides. And… yeah, everything, really, for seventeen years.
- Trying to ensure we had lots of opportunities, even when times were tough.
- Teaching us to work hard by example.
- Ensuring I know the Beatles’ back catalogue.
- Driving to Paris for me FOUR TIMES. You definitely win the best parents award. If I have kids, I don’t see me doing this for them.
- Driving me (and eleven friends) to McFly’s first concert. (OK, this was dad. Mum probably would have come to the concert given the option.)
- Introducing us to racing. (Thanks, dad, for encouraging us towards excellent interests; thanks, mum, for not switching the TV off every GP weekend.)
- Not freaking out when I decided I was going back to uni because my first degree was useless.
- Not freaking out when I decided my second degree was also useless (though neither of them were really).
- Taking me to Toronto.
- Buying us pet rabbits, then Charlie, the world’s best dog.
- Cooking my dinner when I was working late shifts.
- Your obsessive cleaning. I always found it quite stressful when I was living at home, but, now that I’m renting again, I see that a bathroom that clean is like a little bit of heaven on earth.
- Not nagging (a lot), but not because it would be annoying: often when writing my essays at 4 a.m., I actually wished someone had forced me to sit down and work sooner. However, you can’t make anyone do anything, so forcing me into self-discipline was actually a really good lesson.
I appreciate how much freedom I’ve always had, and how laidback you are about everything. When I said I wanted a tattoo, you, mum, said you quite fancied getting one for your sixtieth. When I decided to spend all the money I had saved living with you guys on a trip around the States, your enthusiasm is what really convinced me to go.
You never seemed that keen on me moving to London, but when I had about four hours to decide whether I was going or not, you said I should, which allowed me to be excited about it. And it was completely the right thing to do, even if I wish I could come home far more often.
(Especially when our bathroom and kitchen are at their worst.)
Many thanks again!