Gaia, the girl-woman

Gaia complained recently that I never write about her, and that my anecdotes concern mainly Titus, and on reflection I think she is right. However, and it is a big however, I had to point out to her, in my defence, that I generally write about things I have personally seen or experienced. This rules out people who stay in their bedroom for hours on end. I am sure she's having loads of fun in there, whatever she might be doing - to date I have never been invited in to join in. My visits to her boudoir mainly involve laundry delivery, checking that the heating is not on 'high' next to an open window, and telling her that dinner is ready, having shouted from downstairs several times only to find she's plugged into her iPod.

The other restricting factor is the teenager's rock-bottom embarrassment threshold. Practically anything I do or say is likely to be a faux pas of the worst possible kind, so I thus feel rather constrained in mentioning my dear daughter at all, but I know she reads this, so here you are Gaia - you are the star of today's post! I have written about how and why I don't write about you!

Teenagers are a strange breed. Do we all remember being one, or are we just aware that we were - there is a difference. When I think really hard about how I was at Gaia's age, I feel so removed from that person that I might as well be watching my younger self in a film. I was so convinced of my beliefs, yet at the same time insecure and completely self-obsessed; a hundred times more than I am today. At twenty I wrote in my diary: "I have finally realised that I know absolutely nothing about anything at all - I have SO much left to learn!" This, in retrospect, was a turning point in my life.

It is funny, both peculiar and ha ha (as we Brits love to say), to observe your own child turning into you and doing all the things you did, and to hear yourself react in the way adults did to you, although you swore you never would, should you ever get old enough to be a parent! Gaia has several advantages over my teenage self, though: 1) the internet, 2) the tumble dryer, 3) affordable air travel, and 4) a mother with fashion sense - I have never recovered from having to wear a rust-coloured anorak with a fluffy reindeer-print lining, and a hood, when all the other girls in my class were wearing donkey jackets in inconspicuous dark blue and black. It still crops up in my worst nightmares.