34 going on 17

It's funny, but I have always felt that my biological age was a moot point. After going to university, travelling around the world, getting married, working as a high school teacher, and giving birth three times, you'd think I might start acting like an adult, or at least feeling like one. But I'm afraid that most of the time, my brain is pretty convinced that I'm still seventeen (or thereabouts). There are distinct advantages to this - I can remain entertained by the games of small children for days on end, and I relate well to my more immature students at work. However, I'm sure that if only for my children's wellbeing, I should probably think and act like a grown-up on a regular basis. And stop putting my hair in pig tails.

Today I was put into one of those situations that forces you to be the adult. I tried to wriggle out of it, but it was just no good! The girls and I were on our way to collect Jack from kinder, and we were sitting at a busy intersection waiting for a gap in the traffic. I realised a large dog was running towards our car on the road opposite us, and by some miracle he ran through a gap in the traffic and hid under the front of my car. It was at this point I knew that I had to make a decision...and leaving the dog to keep running wasn't an option! I whacked on the hazard lights, and jumped out of the car. The dog ran straight between my legs (he looked absolutely terrified, the poor thing) so I grabbed his collar and looked for a phone number. Luckily the girls were oblivious to all this - Maisie was staring out the window at the trees, and Phoebs was singing to her doll. One less thing to worry about! It was while rummaging in my nappy bag with the boot open that I realised my mobile was on the kitchen bench. Excellent news. Thank goodness the lovely lady in the car behind me got out to help hold the puppy, and another lady rang the owner on her mobile. Meanwhile, the line of cars banked up behind mine was growing longer, and longer. I was managing to make quite a spectacle of myself (I'm pretty sure my undies were also above the top of my jeans, peeking out from my t-shirt...) holding onto the terrified dog in the middle of the (growing) traffic! Thankfully, a man pulled over on the side of the road and said it was his boss's dog, and the dog leapt gratefully into the back of his Hilux. Woohoo!!! Problem solved!!! I was so relieved that we had saved the puppy from a dangerous situation (and also very, very relieved that I didn't have to put him in the back of my car...). I ran back to my abandoned daughters with a thumping heart, ready to be faced with screaming babies and distressed toddlers. They were both absolutely fine, smiling and looking at all the commotion with aplomb (I think Phoebe was glad the doggy got into someone else's car, though!) And as I drove on to kinder, I realised that for once I had been the grown-up, without really thinking about it. What sort of example would I be setting my kids if I left the dog to run under a car? What would they think if I just turned a blind eye to a difficult situation because someone else might take care of it? When they are adults, I would hope that they would be able to handle any situation life throws at them. It is my responsibility, as their mother, to provide them with the emotional strength and courage to deal with any number of decisions in their lives. And I'm going to begin tomorrow with lesson number one: when you step into the public eye (for example, in busy traffic), always make sure your jeans are pulled up properly to avoid revealing your knick-knacks.