About Rebecca Eckler
Since becoming pregnant with her daughter Rowan, Canadian journalist and author Rebecca Eckler has penned three hilarious books, including the best-selling Knocked Up. Catch Rebecca’s weekly unique perspective on motherhood and single parenthood.
Life is great, now. My daughter LOVES being with me. After I told Rowan I couldn't possibly watch Alvin and the Chipmunks for the 48th time, and that I'd just go downstairs and read, she said, "Why don't you read beside me while I watch? I just like being with you, Mommy."
It is true. My daughter loves being with me. She loves even doing chores with me. If I give her the option of cleaning up with me or going to play in her room, she wants to clean with me. She loves me, right now, so much that, completely unsolicited, she will come out and say, “I love you, Mommy,” when she’s in the middle of brushing her teeth. She tells me she loves me at least ten times a day, constantly wants to cuddle with me, and asks me to tell her stories.
Will it last? I’ve been thinking (and worrying) about this.
My 40-year-old friend just returned from Italy with his mother. I asked him how it went and he said, “By the end, I had to bite my tongue all day long. I should have booked it for two days shorter.”
“Oh, God,” I moaned to him. “That could be my daughter one day! One day, she’ll be biting her tongue around me and saying a trip with me was too long!”
Another friend of mine just had her mother come and stay with her for a week-long visit. They got into a wicked screaming match and after her mother left, my friend announced to me that she will no longer invite her mother to stay at her house, but put her up in a hotel for the next visit.
“Oh God,” I moaned to her. “That could be my daughter one day! One day, she’ll tell me I can no longer stay at her house and she’ll put me up in a hotel!”
Now, my mother is still the first person I cry to when something crappy happens. But that doesn’t mean that I spend so much time with her. I love my parents, but when they ask me to come to the cottage for a few days with them, I’m like, “Maybe I’ll come for a night.”
That’s because I know me. And I know my moods. And if I’m in a bad mood, I can’t be around my parents. Because I’ll take it out on them. I find myself biting my tongue.
So, how can us parents not annoy our children when they’re older? Maybe we can’t. In the meanwhile, I’m going to spend some time at the cottage this summer with my parents. Mostly, I’m going to savour every darn second with my daughter, who wants to really, really be with me. For now.
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