My ex and I get on fine: we have a child together, and the most important person in the world is the child. And most of my family don't see me any other way from how I've always been. It doesn't matter what you do: you'll always be their child. I was in Glasgow a couple of weeks ago and my mum was like, "You want tea and toast, pet?" and bringing me a hot-water bottle. The 21-year-old moved in with me for a while and she helps me out. My sister has two daughters, aged 21 and seven. Sometimes it all goes a bit fantasy world, but I tell her that it's real to us, it's just not how everyone lives their lives.
As soon as I step off that stage, my life is very normal. The way I bring up my daughter is about balance. If an adult tells you to do something, you do it. I like to be able to sit at my table without kids jumping around. They were drummed into me as a child, and I can't stand bad manners. It's not until you have children that what you've been brought up with comes into your life. I always thought I'd have more children, but the way my life panned out, I've got one. It's great to have such a lovely time with my daughter, Misty Kyd. I laugh my head off the funniest things happen. He's been surrounded by women all his life and he likes to grumble about it but really he loves it. He's a very proud man and he enjoys his daughters and granddaughters. My dad's crewed for me and done tours for my band, Texas. When he was, all the attention was on him. We had a real female-bonding thing going on when my dad wasn't there. In the evenings, my sister Corinne and I would help her put together things for the windows, or she'd teach us to jive. When I was 12 or so and wanting to sleep in, my dad would be blasting music and I'd be wishing he'd go back to sleep.
When he was home, he'd be there every day, every night, and we'd go out and buy records. Dad was a merchant seaman and he'd be three months away and a month home. On my dad's side, every two weeks or so we'd go to my nonna's, starting at lunchtime, and it would be big tables – you'd sit and eat lots of food and start conversations and arguments and fights. Thanks to the European mix it felt classless in our family, which wasn't the norm in working-class Glasgow as I was growing up. I'm a real mongrel – my dad's Maltese/Italian and my mum's side is Irish/German. My cousin used to sing this song that would have everyone in tears and I'd do Olivia Newton-John, and no one would give a toss. The first song I sang was an Olivia Newton-John number. We had big sing-songs at my gran's home in Glasgow. My whole family is very musical – pianos, accordions. My dad plays guitar and my mother was a singer.