The funny side to life as a working single Mum. My stories of embarrassing escapades, toddler tantrums and great expectations.
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Thursday, 20 March 2014
Fight fire with fire.
What happens when this dream is stolen? Do we die or are we just empty, still life carcasses? Active taxidermy, drowning in our own weakness and disappointment.
It has felt, at times, like my emotional circulation has been cut off. Calling it a barrier or guard doesn't even cover it. It is as though every ounce of want, need or belief in love has been burned. This is not to say that my life or happiness were lost in the fire, as they survived in my son. It is just that my previously undying belief in love and a relationship as a possibility genuinely formed a pyre, which was burning out in the distance. So far away, I could no longer taste the ash or feel the warmth.
I have recently come to realise that possibly, just possibly, the belief and desire had not been permanently destroyed. Maybe it had just moved further away and needs tempting from the flames. This is not to say that I am, by any means the naieve romantic of a past life. Is this sad? I'm unsure. All I know is that this slight lack of belief has provided and still is a procurer of protection. For that, I am thankful and it may remain in part.
I now feel as though the door of my centre of belief is ajar. Available to peek at for those deserving. To be able to honestly say that my openness has returned, if only partially, is almost new to me. As though this is a different form of availability and belief that in my past life.
Sometimes, an internal fire, wild yet equally tame is the counter action to the flames in the distance. An equal battle. Balanced perhaps.
Cliche as it is, they say fight fire with fire. If this is the case, then perhaps the pyre and ash can remain in the distance. Perhaps there is no need to burn out completely.
Monday, 7 October 2013
An Ode to Amateur Poetry.
An ode to amateur poetry.
Again, you see me naked.
Cruel and attentive, mine
Again, you leave me naked
And blind to solace.
As always, you tend to this,
Broken heart of mine,
And make it yours, unclean
Again, you leave me empty
And deaf to true tones.
Words, mean everything and
Nothing, all at once,
Where I stand alone, unkind
You submerge me, weightless,
Drowning in you.
Cat Howe.
7th October 2013
Tuesday, 23 July 2013
Magical.
Over the past year our not so little boy has gone from a 10lbs 13oz fragile (yes, really!) baby who needed nothing more than his parents, boobs and warmth to a walking, babbling and very funny toddler who goes to nursery, eats spaghetti bolognese and shares it with the cat! Twice this week already I have genuinely cried just watching him and thinking how truly magical the whole thing is. So much has changed and yet the centre is the same; that of our family. The three of us.
There are times when I've been exhausted, rundown and at the end of any patience I ever had but when I watch that silly boy waddle over to me, laughing, clutching 'That's not my monster' for me to read again I cannot help but feel blessed.
As he dances to the hot dog song, turning around with a toothy grin to check we are watching, I can't help but think of my life and where I have ended up. Really, I've ended up at the beginning. The beginning of a new life which we created, which I carried safely and which I bought into the world on a hot, steamy night in our little flat in Leigh, Florence and the Machine as our soundtrack.
I don't think it will ever cease to amaze me each time a new life enters the world. The potential in that one tiny person, who has no idea yet which lies before them. Adventure, love, sadness. They have all of this to come and have no idea where they will be heading.
As I gaze upon our first born now, his personality is clear, his tastes confident. Ethan likes beans, not carrots. Ethan likes 'Jake and the Neverland Pirates', not 'In the Night Garden.' Ethan likes attention and will NOT be ignored by anyone, even the old man on the bus. So, predominately, if he doesn't change much, Ethan is going to be a dramatic, farting buccaneer! Lovely stuff!
Seriously though, I am so blessed and feel I should never forget this. As parents we should never forget how lucky we are. There are women and men everywhere who can't have children or have lost children for all number of reasons. You've probably spoken to one of them without realising it. So next time someone gazes over at your family or giggles at your baby, they could just be being friendly or that gaze and giggle could be masking all kinds of pain we can only imagine.
Be kind to your friends with children; we all make different choices for different reasons. Be thoughtful of the kindness of strangers; it is wonderful. Be understanding of childless friends; they have their own problems which are no less important than yours as a parent.
Feel blessed. Everyday. However hard it can be.
I love you Ethan George Hadley. More than you will ever know. You are my inspiration in everything I do, my dream turned to reality and my greatest creation. One day I hope you read this blog (you'll be asking what the hell a blog is) and feel proud. I would have achieved everything as a writer if that day comes.
Also, I will apologise in advance for all the swearing Son. Bad Mummy.
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