This is some kind of fucked up karmic brilliance from the universe.

It is very hard looking so closely in the mirror.





There was a little girl,

Who had a little curl,

Right in the middle of her forehead.

When she was good,

She was very good indeed,

But when she was bad she was horrid.

– Longfellow




My mum used the aforementioned poem to describe my childhood. My dad used the term “Wilderness years” to describe my teenage-hood. What the fuck have I done to myself?


I am quietly impressed Universe! A round of applause to you, you asshole!!


She has so many qualities that I am SO FIERCELY PROUD of:

  1. She is FIERCE. In every respect.
  2. She says CLEARLY and forcefully “I don’t like that” to any and everything she isn’t into.
  3. She ‘huggles’ and kisses more genuinely than almost every other human (on par with her brother, who is also beautifully expressive).
  4. She loves trouble.
  5. She loves camaraderie.
  6. That’s it actually (I can’t even think of another cool thing I could hope for either).


She also possesses all the qualities that got ME into SO MUCH TROUBLE:

  1. FIERCE. In every respect.
  2. Says CLEARLY and forcefully “I don’t like that” to any and everything she isn’t into.
  3. ‘Huggles’ and kisses genuinely.
  4. Loves trouble.
  5. Loves camaraderie.

Now that I know what I’m in for……WHAT THE HELL DO I DO? ARGH!

Teenage me wished my parents would have said “Dear passionate child of mine, you can do whatever you like! Be free! Also here’s some money to fritter away on whatever you please.” What they actually said was more along the lines of “If you don’t want to behave yourself and fit into this family life, go away and sort yourself out.”

So, being the ‘super mature’16 year old that I was, I gave my parents the finger and moved out, left school and generally flounced about getting into all sorts of mischief.

I can totally see my 16 year old self, in my 20 month old daughter.

I am terrified. This is some kind of fucked up karmic brilliance from the Universe.


Crossing my fingers and hoping for the best for my wee one doesn’t seem like enough to thwart the inevitable! But that’s pretty much all we can do right? EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!

I turned out fine, so perhaps it all comes out in the wash. I’ve always thought that if you are generally kind human, your children will turn out well in the end. Though I’m worried my testing model might not be quite scientific enough, given that I’m basing this off my family and friends!

If faced with the same teenager that I was, what would I do? I DON’T KNOW! Suggestions for dealing with this spirited mini-me??!!

2 thoughts

  1. I found you by looking for the book title “Parenting Sucks” and you blog post – A lot of time parenting sucks -came up. I was looking that up because I want to write that book. Hey soul sister.. what’s up! Let’s be clear I am super outspoken and when my kids were little I shared my feeling loud and proud with the whole world which when you have little ones means the people at my local park and the grocery store because I was in baby jail and those are the only places your aloud to go. My kids were super cute, like yours and every day I would hear the comments, “They are so lovely” or “Such precious moments.” My comment back would be, “Do you want them, they have ruined my life” or “I can’t wish this time away fast enough” or my personal fav, “They are broken and I want to return them”. Cue the shock and horror… oh and I loved it! During a very difficult, “I don’t even think we should be married” time with my husband I would casually mention to people, “My marriage is falling apart and I hate my kids.” OMG! Did she just say that out loud? Why yes I did. I had many a park mom lower her voice and say, “No one every says those kinds of things but I totally feel the same way” SO I just had to write and say – Rock it Mama! Share it loud and proud. It’s cathartic to be honest about the dirty rotten horrors of kids. Yes, they are also amazing shiny little beings that we wouldn’t really trade for the super cute smily kid at daycare, at least I don’t think I would. I had what seemed like a brilliant thought when I was in one of my dark baby moments, I think my son was projectile pooping at 4am and I had the vision, – Love must weigh more than the dark – I can have 3 days of bitter, sad, sleep deprived exhaustion and say to my self, I don’t want to be a mother any more, then my baby grabs his toes, gives me a sideways smile and coos. OK I’m back in for a few more days. How does that one moment balance out the crazy?… Love weights more than the dark. I have more thoughts for you on your latest post re, raising a mini me but I’ll save those for next time. Hit me back with thoughts. Power to the mamas!

    Liked by 1 person

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