when they hand you your child...
(unless you were blessed enough to pull life out yourself)
they do not have any advice that suits
because they are not us and we are not them...
and this is not theirs ... and nor is it ours
what did Gibran say?
... something about ...
"They come through you but not from you
and they are with you yet they belong not to you"
but then why did I have them?
what love is this?
that robs me of my selfish senses
that guilts me into stifling tears of hellish exhaustion
that rips my heart out with every smile and hands it back bigger than before
|Frederick Warren Freer|
that confuses my career with things that matter
that draws from me a lullaby and reads to me of monkeys
and faeries and dinosaurs
that halves me and then makes me whole again ...
|Fine Art America|
..... what love is this?
I've been reading a lot about motherhood on blogs lately
It would seem a topic that raises many an eyebrow, an opinion
and, more often than not, a passionate response
I found the above piece of writing in amongst my scribblings a few weeks ago.
I wrote it when my son was about two years old (14 years ago now!!)
(I dragged it out to use as a comment on Pia's heartwarming post about Motherhood,
blogging and telling it like it is - it made me laugh to read just how overwhelmed I seemed)
There are no facts. Parenting is just too subjective. It's human. It's diverse. It's fickle.
With the exception of love (immense, fierce and frightening love) there are simply
no hard and fast rules... just good intentions)
You'll feel the same way about parenting in three, seven, sixteen years - as you do now
I became a mother 16 years ago ...
(I consider the very second I saw the "second blue line" the start of the journey)
I had already miscarried once ... quite late in term...
I was ecstatic, petrified and very hormonal
Upon giving birth I stared at this little bundle, with great trepidation,
wondering if I was up to the task
(I prayed that mothers instinct was NOT a myth)
We were a one income (small income) family
We were renting a closet
We were very young
We were exhausted almost all of the first two years
I was often filled with a longing to go back to work....
... that vaporised every time I thought about daycare
My dear mother ensured that Hubby and I were able to have a reasonable
(albeit diminished) social life and of course immeasurable support and love
We were happy. So very happy.
Ours was a healthy, content, chubby cheeked boy who lit up our hearts
I have stumbled along the way
I have made some hilarious mistakes*
I have doffed my hat to those who have more than one
I made A LOT of it up as I went along and I have loved 93% of the task
(7% = sickness, sleepless nights, arguing with a teenager &
losing my child in Piccadilly Circus)
losing my child in Piccadilly Circus)
Although I'm not a new mum I truly love reading all about the adventures, emotions, opinions, misgivings and fiesty viewpoints of mothers the world around...
Pia writes about the challenge of balancing motherhood, blogging and career
Artemis writes about her feelings on mama-hood ....
Hannah writes about her views on gender stereotyping as a parent...
Kate writes about positive role models for her daughters...
Lisa writes about loving barefoot boys .....
And I just love it all
To all the mums out there... whether today is a triumph or a struggle,
I salute you all with such immense respect and admiration....
... what love this is indeed.
* when our son was but a wee 8 year old he asked what a condom was... surprised and slightly taken aback, Hubby and I proceeded to stumble our way through a haphazard explanation that left him with the most confused and befuddled expression on his face.
When we asked him what was troubling him he replied:
That makes no sense at all because on the tv show The Nanny,
Fran says "Oh Mr Sheffield can we live in a condo by the sea"
... yep we had heard wrong and confused condo with condom.
Happy days.... ♥