For most of my life I’ve called my parents by their first names – Carmel and Garry.
Admittedly, I started doing it when I was in my tween years, thinking it was a really clever, smart ass thing to do.
It was one of the ways I tried to push the boundaries, and honestly – it backfired. My parents didn’t care if I called them by their first names.
Truthfully, I think it was around this time when I started to see my parents as humans – as individuals who had their own lives going on outside of parenting me. I was beginning to get to know the real people behind their parenting masks.
Of course, between the ages of 13 to about 17, I mostly hated those people. Because - you know - they were trying to ruin my life by feeding me, putting a roof over my head and trying to teach me stuff about life.