Mummy, Mum, Mama, Mom – it’s a dear and cherished name change that lasts a lifetime, changing our hearts forever. Mine’s been dip-dyed by two kids, but it’s a repetitive process, as I get to know all their iterations.
It’s not easy, and some days I’m a better baker than others.
I prevent getting too ‘holey’ by having alone time pit-stops throughout the day, a few hours alone each weekend preferably with Kai taking the kids out of the house, and having my own interests to grow in. How do you balance the rolling out and the self-care?
Anyone else love admiring their lashes, or exquisite irises, thinking ‘how on earth did I make something so perfect?’
How do you keep yourself going through the tough days? It’s so important to put on our oxygen masks before we’re able to do all the things, be all the people, for our kids. What does putting on your oxygen mask first look like for you?
I’m lucky enough to be able to take time in the morning with a cup of tea alone, slowly switching on my introvert brain. After lunch we usually move apart for some quiet time, which for me might be cooking with a podcast, or sat on my bed with a cuppa and a snack writing. Or us all going for a walk in nature, as a site of mutual fulfilment.
Anyone else has strangely psychic connections with their kids?! Mine have been doing this since they were babies. Crying out words in their sleep from books I was reading in my head. Or sharing images in their dreams from films I’d watched without them! I can’t explain it, but it also makes sense somehow.
Motherhood imposter syndrome anyone?! Some days I feel it’s just a fluke if we’re all fed, smiling, and not screaming. But I guess my goose-like ways add up to the mother they need. And there’s always apologising and starting afresh tomorrow….
Gentle hasty massages, braided plaits, theatre make-up, original outfits – the attention and love our kids feel when bestowing us with their best just makes my heart grow.
…sharing gossamer threads of conversation, flexible and strong enough for weaving in between interruptions, to wipe the nose of, or listen to excited stories from our friends’ children. There might be feelings of insanity as we struggle to make time for community at this stage in our life, but I know my friends keep me sane.
As Naomi Stadlen so importantly wrote in ‘What Mothers Do’, motherhood or parenting is still shrouded in mystery and a shock to most new to it. The words needed for your new skills, emotional range, thoughts, and very existence, seem foreign. You feel like an uninitiated, lonely ghost. Until you find others. Your tribe. And feel the relief of hearing the same language you have been struggling to process come pouring from their lips, to your heart.