My dad plays guitar and my mother was a singer. My whole family is very musical – pianos, accordions. We had big sing-songs at my gran's home in Glasgow. That's how I grew up. The first song I sang was an Olivia Newton-John number. 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.
I'm a real mongrel – my dad's Maltese/Italian and my mum's side is Irish/German. 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. 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.
Dad was a merchant seaman and he'd be three months away and a month home. When he was home, he'd be there every day, every night, and we'd go out and buy records. 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.
My mum was a window-dresser. In the evenings, my sister Corinne and I would help her put together things for the windows, or she'd teach us to jive. We had a real female-bonding thing going on when my dad wasn't there. When he was, all the attention was on him.
My dad's crewed for me and done tours for my band, Texas. He's painfully proud of me. He's a very proud man and he enjoys his daughters and granddaughters. He's been surrounded by women all his life and he likes to grumble about it but really he loves it.
I love being a mum. I laugh my head off; the funniest things happen. It's great to have such a lovely time with my daughter, Misty Kyd. I always thought I'd have more children, but the way my life panned out, I've got one.
It's not until you have children that what you've been brought up with comes into your life. My thing is manners. They were drummed into me as a child, and I can't stand bad manners. I like to be able to sit at my table without kids jumping around. I want them to respect their elders. If an adult tells you to do something, you do it.
The way I bring up my daughter is about balance. As soon as I step off that stage, my life is very normal. 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.
My sister has two daughters, aged 21 and seven. The 21-year-old moved in with me for a while and she helps me out. We're a very close family. 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. It doesn't matter what you do: you'll always be their child. And most of my family don't see me any other way from how I've always been.
My ex and I get on fine: we have a child together, and the most important person in the world is the child. It's not really that hard. My daughter is happy with my new partner, Bryn, and when I first met him it wasn't "Here's my new boyfriend." You make sure you're definitely going to happen as a couple before you introduce them. But then it's OK.
The Movie Songbook by Sharleen Spiteri is out on Mercury Records, 1 March