You reach your thirties and start longing to have a baby. You see them everywhere: sitting in a shopping trolley at the supermarket, sleeping in their prams as their parents grab a quick coffee, on tv adverts selling tissues, on your Facebook and Instagram feeds. Then you have your first and you think this is bloody hard but a couple of years pass and it becomes easier (or you become better at ignoring the chaos and sleepless nights). So you have a second, and perhaps even a third.
And it’s all fun and games…until the first decade is over. Then it all gets real. You realise you have a future adult living with you, witnessing everything you say and do, being shaped by the way you live and the example you set. I feel the weight of this responsibility on a daily basis. I am even more aware of it when I remember that we’re raising three girls. They will, in the not so distant future, be women who will look back on their childhood and their memories of me, their mother, raising them. I often tell them and remind them that they can do whatever they want to do in life, as long as they work hard for it. I haven’t always led by example, but I’m at a point in my life where I feel a sense of urgency. My eldest is starting to think about her future and what she might want to do when she grows up. I’m 40 and feel like I’m running out of time.
Yesterday, America elected a president who is less than inspirational. Although I don’t agree with a lot of her policies and ideas, I was hoping that Hillary Clinton would be elected. My 11-year-old was also very excited at the prospect of a woman leading one of the most powerful countries in the world.
Unfortunately, our hopes were dashed, but Clinton’s words will remain and I hope that all my daughters will live by them.