Day 19: Blackmail

This morning, I wake up with lightning flashing across the sky, and thunder following in big rumbles. The end of summer has arrived in paradise.

The afternoon rolls by, and I go to a yoga class with my daughter. The teacher is sad, as she is told that her class will end due to budget cuts. She tears up, which tells me she really likes teaching (or is she afraid of the financial strain?). Aya and I are not the gushing type. We leave tearless, and in considerable physical pain.

In the evening, my friend stops by with her husband and two adorable babies. My babies, are amused with the little ones. I am bemused at how quickly my children have grown. I remember in detail, the days they were born, each and every one. Which makes me wonder....

My friend who reads natal charts asks me every 15 years about my birth time. Every time, I ask my mother. She doesn't remember, although last time I pressed, she "believes I was born in the morning". I wonder how she cannot remember. Is it because it was too traumatic? Unfortunately, my relationship with my parents is extremely traditional. I don't talk about feelings with them. They are my parents and therefore, it is inappropriate to discuss feelings.

I am the exact opposite with my children. When they hurt my feelings, I cry. When they are inconsiderate, I bash them over the head with a truckload of anger. When they are brilliant, I hope I am the first to tell them so. Afterall, they are the future. They are my passion. And, like it or not, I have a LOT OF INFORMATION about them that they wouldn't want made public.