the things not said

Dear Mum

As it’s Mother’s Day in the UK today I thought I would write you a letter and thank you for all the things you have done for me over the years.

First of all, and most importantly, thanks for giving me safe passage into the world.  Given that you are five foot one, I was nine and a half pounds and two weeks late in the hottest summer ever this was no small task.

Thank you for teaching me that the world does not revolve around me and that I must always be aware of the people around me and try, as much as my imperfect self is able, to be kind and thoughtful, putting others needs first.

Thank you for always being so generous.  You never spoilt me as a child but there were so many riches in my life; a beautifully decorated room of my own, Marks and Spencer snowball cakes on Fridays, your attention every day I came in from school, a home in a village that had a river 15 minutes walk away, a pub where I got my first Saturday job, a group of boys that became my brothers and so much of God’s beauty all around me.

As an adult you spoil me all the time with gifts and thoughtful treats.  Which leads me to thanking you for being the person in my world that always thinks of me, misses me when I am away, forgives me for all my mistakes, delights in my successes, cries with me in my battles, worries when I’m not well, listens to all my stories, tells me when I’m pushing the line, always always always loves me.

Thanks for diligently feeding me when I was young so I know how to feed my own family now.  I love fresh healthy food because that’s what you always gave me.  I love cooking because every meal you have ever given me was tasty (liver being the exception but I think that was more a lesson in endurance than a meal).  I know that sweet treats are a good thing in moderation because of six sweets after dinner.  I don’t drink to excess because you never did.

Thanks for showing me that it’s really important you choose a man to share your life with that is your match and values the same things you do.  And that once you have found the person you want to spend the rest of your life with, you work with all your might to make it last.  And on that note, thank you for Pops, who is most likely my children’s favourite grand parent and for Rosie, my much loved, bonus sister.

Thanks for giving me Nick.  My brother, who I am so proud of.  Who is loving and kind to the very core.  Hilariously funny, ridiculously silly and annoyingly clever.

I’m so thankful I inherited your legs and whilst dad also has a lot to do with my nose, I appreciate now that it saved me from being too vain as there’s nowhere to hide that big honker!

Thank you for letting other women play a role in mothering me and so I also thank Dora, Julie and Jenny for giving me so much love and guidance over the years.  I hope I can be secure enough to share my wonderful daughter with other strong, wise and faithful women so she gets all the role models she needs to grow into the best woman she can be.

Thank you for never judging me whilst I try to be the best mum I can to Minnie and Jackson.  I know I can always come to you for support and advice but you believe in me enough to let me do it my way.  And thank you for loving my children almost as much as I do.  I know that you love them unconditionally and they can feel that special acceptance and security from you.

I know that you have persevered many storms in your life, before I was born and after. You are just a normal woman like the rest of us but what makes you so special to me is that I know you are a woman of character, determination, faith, humility, discernment and strength, so much gritty strength.  I see now that you taught me to never let failure or hard times stop me from picking myself up and hoping for a better day, for sun after the rain and a second chance.  You also taught me that honesty is the best and simplest way to keep healthy relationships with the people you love.

I am very proud of you and the person you are.  If I had to choose my mum, I’d choose you every time and wouldn’t change you at all.  I miss you all the time and can’t wait to see you again.

Thank you mum, have a happy Mother’s Day.

Love from your Claire x

PS As it’s not Mother’s Day until June in NZ your present is going to arrive late and this is your card- oops!

There is something really lovely about your children getting to the age of five.  Actually there are lots of things like; they finally wipe their own bum, they go to school so a professional has to tell them backchat isn’t becoming, you can drop them off at a birthday party and go get a coffee somewhere civilised and once in a while, they use a fork.

The something I am thinking of is that you start to remember what it was like when you were their age.  And it kind of reminds you to not panic as a parent.

For the last month or so our children have stopped going to sleep the right side of 8pm.  The routine was (and would still be if we had any say in the matter at all) was bath at 6.30pm, PJ’s, clean teeth, have a little play and then to respective bedrooms for stories.  Lights out about 7.45pm and sleep would soon fall upon our sweet angels.

The hot weather and light nights have royally screwed us over on that tidy bedtime ritual.  Once bath is done our children are under the impression that “independent play” is on the schedule for the next three hours.  At first we fought it, imprisoning them in their rooms and sitting on the stairs until it went quiet (once I read half a book waiting for the peace to come).  If we’re already stressed from our days we threaten terrible consequences for their rebellion against sleep, like locking them outside the front door or taking away their precious beaubeaus, which ironically are their “sleep-aides”.  Sometimes we lie on their beds with them until they fall asleep, which almost always means we fall asleep and come down, bleary eyed at 9.45pm, meaning the evening to ourselves that we were trying to have when we were getting them to sleep, has now disappeared.  Bribes work, but we can’t afford to do that every night and what exactly are we teaching them – sleeping is a great way to make a living?  A few times we have given them time for “quiet play” in their rooms and then gone up at a later time to tell them to go to sleep.  By the time we go up, or often before then, they have trashed their rooms, injured themselves or broken a piece of furniture.  Which results in me screaming them into their beds and regretting it for the rest of the night.

I have grown up on films where parents tell a story, cuddle their little one, turn the light out, say “night night pumpkin” and the child rolls over and falls asleep instantly.  That is how it works when you’re a good parent no?  Can someone tell me if this does in fact exist?  Is it right around the corner for us?  Please, is it?

Who knows how this particular chapter of parenting will turn out.  They are growing up.  Winter is coming. When they learn to read, quieter activities will be available to them.  Jackson is going to move bedrooms so they won’t be right next to each other.  The wind will change and bedtime will be peaceful again.  We’ll get through this “phase”, like all the others.

To go back to my original point, the thing is, I remember staying up after bedtime when I was a child.  I remember sitting at the top of the stairs listening to my parents downstairs entertaining friends, watching TV, talking about life together. If I’d had a sibling around, I’d have probably got into mischief with them. I remember coming up with allsorts of stories just as mum was saying goodnight so I could stay up a bit longer and watch Eastenders out of the corner of my eye whilst I try to distract her from the fact that I’m not in bed.  When Minnie does that now, I kind of like it.

Last night Jackson refused to go to bed and sat at the bottom of the stairs, so Gareth and I just carried on what we were doing, which was chatting in the kitchen.  At 9.30pm one of us went to the toilet and there was Jackson, pillow and duvet in the hall and him fast asleep.  We both respected him for it.  He stuck to his guns, he did not go to bed.

Raiding the pantry and trashing the living room aside, I think I’m going to try and just ride this wave of late bedtimes.  You can lead a child to bed, but you can’t make it sleep so why get stressed attempting the impossible?

I wanted to share this video of Jennifer Garner reading a book about sleep, but I have to put a “it contains naughty words” warning here so my parents and in-laws aren’t shocked.  If you can forgive the swearing and blaspheming, it’s so on the money!

Wouldn’t it be great if family life was like this all the time?  Like the photos we take, and especially the ones we share.  Where the sun is shining and the children are smiling.

This photo was not taken today.  There is no way on earth this could have been taken today.

Today, the neighbour brought round my children after they had snuck out the living room window and visited her, without telling me they were leaving the building!

Today, my children got out almost all the cutlery we own and chopped up carrot and tomatoes and added water, a whole pot of cinnamon and fennel seeds to make soup for dinner.  And then spilt it all over the floor I’d hoovered and mopped one hour before.

Today, my children decided to climb into the garden shed we’ve had locked up for two years now with some poisonous mold problem, to have a play.

Today, my four and six year old children didn’t go to sleep until 9.15pm.

Today, I told my children off so much that Minnie asked why I was only “Angry Mum” today.

There is a reason I didn’t take any pictures today.

Instead, as I take stock of the day and wish I’d been “Fun Mum” and “Roll With The Punches Mum”, I have to look at these photos to remind me that it’s not always today.

Being a mum is not all smiles and cup cakes.  Sometimes being a mum is just endless arguments and time outs. And that’s why we take pictures with smiles on.  So we can tell ourselves that it’s not always tears and tantrums.  No really.  Sometimes we get it so right and it’s all just big fat smiles.

Keeping it real folks.