Mum...I'm 18!

Another week, another university interview and so we head down the M5 to Cornwall. As this is a long way from home, we book an overnight stay in a hotel.

Twin 1 is looking forward to a taste of freedom and happily flings a few essentials into a rucksack just before we leave. I ask if she has everything and I get the standard teen reply…

‘Mum...I’m 18.’ She follows this with rolling of eyes and a deep sigh. Realising that I am not wanted, I skulk off feeling like an unwanted toy.

I am trying to be more hands off with my daughters, really I am. They are off to university in September and will get to make their own mistakes, with no one to hoover up the pieces behind them.

I am finding this incredibly difficult. Nothing escapes my attention and I am like a bee round a honeypot until I’ve fathomed out whatever’s going on in their lives. I know that it’s time to let go…it’s just so hard when I can barely remember my life before they were born.

The following morning, the task of waking Twin 1 proves difficult. Naturally, my daughter has turned her phone off and isn’t fussed on answering the door in a hurry, having thought that she’d be getting a lie-in. Meanwhile, I am wondering just how quickly I can get to the beach and how long I can stay there before setting off for her interview.

Eventually, she opens the door. I am initially impressed that she is at least dressed, albeit looking rather dishevelled. We tell Twin 1 that we are off to breakfast and will meet her in the restaurant.

It isn’t until I’m downing my first coffee of the day that I realise that she is wearing exactly the same outfit as she had on yesterday.

I quiz my husband on this, he smirks and tells me that she has forgotten her pyjamas. I laugh, but feel relieved that the explanation is innocent. I am sure this will be the first of many mornings that she appears dressed in yesterday's clothes.

She finally appears at breakfast wearing her interview outfit and I say nothing.

It isn’t until we’re heading back to our rooms, that she asks to borrow hair serum, perfume and eye-liner. Jokingly, I ask,

‘Do you have everything else you need?’ and she quips…

‘Yes thanks, I do now.’ I snigger and she can’t fathom out why.

Yes, Twin 1 is most definitely her mother’s daughter…she forgets stuff and muddles her way through life. I meanwhile am a mum and I miss nothing. I really need to get out more and learn to let go of my daughters...