The funny side to life as a working single Mum. My stories of embarrassing escapades, toddler tantrums and great expectations.
Showing posts with label mum. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mum. Show all posts
Sunday, 31 May 2015
Woodland Warriors.
I've come to realise that i'm quite the outdoors type. A tomboy. A tree hugger. Since having Ethan, I've embraced this side of myself and, while I'm by no means an adventurer, I love getting grubby and down to earth in the woods or on the beach.
Ethan is a total nature kid. He loves bugs, trees and running wild and free. On Friday, we headed to Wat Tyler Park for Woodland Warriors, which is run by the extraordinary Tiffers, whose enthusiasm for nature is catching, for both children and adults of all ages.
We started by sitting in a circle learning about the various songs of different birds and even my 2 year old was interested, holding the different soft toy birds and listening to their songs. The rest of the session was spent on various activities, from bird mask making to swinging in the trees to building a bird nest and making bird feeders.
A highlight for me was making a clay bird with Ethan and the other families, which reminded me of David Almond's novel 'Skellig' and the freedom of his character Mina.
To end the morning, Tiffers lit an open fire for us to cook marshmallows over. Wearing a huge protective glove, Ethan cooked his marshmallow up, learning about fire safety along the way. It was a stunningly beautiful moment to share.
The whole event felt relaxed and yet structured, with a balance of learning and freedom. When helping an older girl to start her own fire the old fashioned way, Tiffers said 'I'm not telling you what to do, I'm just helping', which summed up the overall atmosphere.
I have a feeling William Blake would have more than approved of Woodland Warriors, with his philosophy of embracing the natural intelligence and creativity of children and the magic of our environment.
'How can a bird who is made for joy sit in a cage and sing?'
Sunday, 19 April 2015
"Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair."
I came across this photo I had sent to a friend fairly recently; my son rubbing a rubber centipede into my hair, while I'm suffering with a horrible virus.
This is parenting.
Right here is the ugly truth of it. As always, this is not to say that I don't love being a Mum. I really do. It's just that this photo and moment are ridiculously funny, exhausting and amazing in equal measures. Why not share that?
Sunday, 25 January 2015
Hard or soft boiled?
Sadly, this isn't another gripping piece about my love of breakfast or TV cookery shows. Incidently, I did make a delicious soft boiled egg for my salad this afternoon.
Anyway, over the past couple of months lots has happened, lots has changed, lots has transposed. Something I have realised, just today, is that over the past 17 months as a single Mum, I made a choice to harden myself. I have always been rather a softie to be honest. A vegetarian at 9, believing in soul mates forever, helping the homeless and volunteering abroad later on.
When my heart was finally and fully broken, I made a decision to be tough and protect myself. Consequently, I changed into a different version of myself, that i'm not all too sure I like. I became less sympathetic of those outside of my close inner circle, I became more judgemental and, as such, more hateful. That's just not me.
Now, I do think I need to protect myself and to be honest, take less shit; does this mean I need to be hard? Of course it doesn't. I like being kind, I like helping others to be happy and I love seeing the brightness in everything. I miss it, in fact.
When talking to a friend about this, she told me 'you are soft and that's why we love you.' That just says it all really.
Contrary to this, my Mum advised me that if I were in fact soft, how the hell did I give birth to a giant baby, in my house, without pain relief? Good point, Mum.
Something to note is that my Mum always makes good points and always has done. No one knows me quite like my Mum.
This got me thinking: are my soft attributes really all that soft? I make a choice not to eat food, which may be delicious, to live by my morals. I travelled to Africa alone, when I had never even left the South of England alone! I saw and heard things there which were painful and I had to leave the beautiful children I met behind me. Soft? No. I have risked and felt heartache because, deep down, I still believe in love. I call that brave.
So, rather than consider myself soft or hard, I'm going for strong. It's far more accurate. I'm a strong mother and strong individual. That's just me.
Friday, 11 April 2014
Need, want and independence.
A boisterous toddler, Ethan now has real personality, holds the most basic of conversations and yet has far more complex needs and, moreover, wants than as a baby.
At the weekend, we went for lunch at our local The Alex with friends and got to discussing when Ethan gets older and starts to work. Maybe he will work in a pub. Maybe Auntie Sam, Auntie Katie and Mum will embarrass him by popping in for lunch. What kind of young man will Ethan become? I have an image in my head of what he will look like, what he will sound like, who he will be. The frightening thing is that I have a feeling it won't take long to get to this point.
The last ten years since I was a teenager myself have passed in what seems likes minutes. All of a sudden I am a Mother, with relationships and marriages behind me, sitting on the brink of thirty. This is not to sound negative at all as my life now is richer and fuller than that of my 19 year old self. It has just taken years, yet moments to get here.
Ethan is no longer a baby. That part of his and my life has passed. The night waking, breast feeding and endless rocking is finished. Done. The Ethan of now is loud, excited and sometimes seems to need me less.
Or, does he simply need me differently?
On his first trip into London on Monday, this was more obvious, wonderful and alarming than usual. As we walked the streets of Camden, made friends with animals in the zoo and travelled by train and underground, Ethan seemed to grow even more into a little boy in front of my eyes. He ran with confidence, laughed as an emotional, not biological reaction and was wild with excitement.
There were moments, however, when my little boy still needed me. He didn't need to suckle for nutrition and comfort, but needed to tell me or show me things, to share chips with me and to hold hands while running through puddles.
Similarly, he needs my Mum, his Nan, for cuddles, for laughs and for playtime. He needs his Grandad, my Dad, for walks to the shop, noisy games and secret sweets. Ethan may not need me solely, but he still does. The difference is the wonderful independence he now has. It may feel like rejection and loss at times but, ultimately, I have utilised our close relationship and Ethan's reliance and trust of me to give him an independent and brave spirit. If this gives any prediction of his future young man, he will be an incredible young man indeed.
From this...
...to this...
...to now...
Thursday, 29 August 2013
Time for tea.
When you feel let down and at odds with the world a simple cup of hot, steamy nectar makes it all seem slightly warmer, even for a brief moment. Over the past few weeks of personal disappointment, confusion and discontent in my own life, tea has been a staple in both my physical and emotional diet.
Contrary to this, tea is also a fitting accompaniment to friendship, love and celebration. A sign that someone cares enough or that you care for them. A symbol that everything is all will be at least alright.
Tea. I can't imagine life without it.
Monday, 15 July 2013
Sun is shining...
To start off our sunny evening, a friend was very kind and gave Ethan and I a lift home from work. This also came with the added bonus of a cornetto! Now, if a cornetto doesn't get you in a summery mood, nothing will! Nothing says summer like cornetto. Literally nothing.
So, after a long day at work/nursery, the three of us headed down to the seafront, met some friends and enjoyed a cold drink with our toes dipped in the lush (if not slightly southend-y) sea! Sun shining overhead, it doesn't get much better and as we wandered along the seafront towards the beach side cafes you couldn't help but feel as though you really were on holiday.
Wearing a bikini and light sundress, hair pushed back it was impossible not to be overcome by the sound of the elements and the laughter of what could have been holiday makers. Ethan absolutely loved walking hastily along the beach and then the front, eagerly 'talking to' and tugging on every passer by, giving a cheeky grin and giggle as he went.
A grin so charming he gained chips and a lolly within minutes of sitting down for dinner! The fish and chips we ordered was fabulous and Ethan's fun continued with colouring, chasing dogs and even a visit to the restaurant kitchen!
I don't often do the 'proud Mummy' thing, even though Ethan makes me proud every single day but tonight I felt truly proud and realised how far we have come so far. Ethan is one of the most sociable children of his age I have seen and so open and trusting. He is desperate to explore and wants to be a part of every piece of action and every moment of life happening right now.
Ethan might be a handful but he is loving, friendly and enthusiastic. We can't ask for much more than that. When me and Charlie first met and dated we could only dream of what our future would hold and the reality is more hard work and more rewarding than we ever hoped of dreamed.
Talking of dreams, Ethan completely crashed out asleep in Charlie's arms on the walk home and went down in his cot with minimal fuss. Over two hours later and he's still there; asleep. Maybe a full day of nursery, followed by friends, sea paddling and exploring the world has finally tired Ethan out! Just maybe we may have cracked it and all it took was a little, or rather a lot of sunshine. I
Monday, 8 July 2013
Why I am a great Mum!
I have decided to start each week with a proclamation of exactly why I am actually a great Mum and my achievements over the past week! Now, please don't think that I am bragging about how amazing I am; I just figured after all the self doubt and guilt we feel as Mothers it is about time we started praising ourselves. After all, being a Mum can be a pretty thankless job at times.
So, last week I have been a great Mum because of the following:
1.) Each night I had a relaxing bath with Ethan before bed.
2.) We took Ethan to a friend's 2nd Birthday party where he ran around and played like crazy, loving the attention.
3.) I cooked nutritious and tasty meals for the family.
4.) I went to work for long hours, including extra tuition and events which helps provide for Ethan and his future.
5.) I spent Sunday with Ethan and Charlie at the park where he ate ice cream, playing on the swings and running barefoot on the grass.
6.) I breastfed Ethan everyday, even at night when totally exhausted from long work days.
7.) When not with him, I left Ethan in a safe and caring environment with people he knows and trusts.
8.) I cuddled and kissed him everyday.
9.) I told him I love him everyday.
10.) I made sure he was as happy as possible everyday.
I am sure we all have our own list of things we do all the time which make us great parents. Why not write yours?
Ethan is my reason behind all of the choices I make. Sometimes I just need to remind myself that I have made the right choices for my family.
Saturday, 6 July 2013
Missing out.
Now, I love my job but a lot of what we do outside 'normal' work hours is 'normal' in the profession. It's necessary in order to do our job well and there is no option of retesting less hours. The work needs to be done, kids need our help, the school needs us. That's it.
Probably, some of you will read this and think my Son needs me more and my priorities are wrong but what can I do? I need to keep my job in a difficult time and I need to earn my wage to pay the rent and bills. No option.
Its tough going though and I'm ashamed to admit that every Facebook update or conversation with friends who stay at home with their babies fills me with jealousy. When they tell me about the new things their child has learnt or funny things they have done it hurts. It's not their fault obviously and it is also lovely to hear their stories. I can't help but feel shit though that actually I don't know what my son has achieved this week, other than second hand from his nursery or my Mum. I'm lucky to have excellent care for Ethan while I'm at work and know he's happy but I'm still not there. I'm not the one holding his hand everyday. I'm not the one guiding him everyday.
Ethan is changing so rapidly and I'm missing out. I'm lucky to have the weekends and we will soon have the holiday but essentially I may as well not be here and come to visit for the summer. How sad is that?
Monday, 1 July 2013
Was breastfeeding the right choice?
There are days, however, when I think formula feeding would just be simpler. Mainly when people tell me how their formula fed babies sleep through for several hours at a time! With 11 months without a single full night of sleep behind me, it cuts deep!
Now, I'm sure formula feeding Mums sometimes wish they were breastfeeding for the convenience of no sterilising and making up bottles with the added bonus of comfort through boob! I for one don't envy all that hard work sterilising and mixing powders. I'd be crap at being that organised; my boobs aren't going anywhere after all!
I'm still glad I've breastfed Ethan and he's showing no sign of stopping any time soon. Further, I am fully aware that not all formula fed babies sleep all night but the prospect of it is still a wonderful dream for me to behold. It is, for the majority of the time, a seemingly unattainable dream in our household.
Saturday, 15 June 2013
Why I like the bus (sometimes).
So everyday I get the bus from down the road to the village where I work and most of the time I actually really enjoy it. On the days I don't have Ethan I listen to music, drink tea and either get some marking done or read. It's a rare time to relax on my own or get some work done so I have more family time at the weekend.
For the most part I like it on the days I have Ethan with me going to our on site nursery. While he is a handful on the bus, he experiences meeting a whole range of people, some eager to meet him and some not.
A perfect example is the two ladies who we see most evenings who Ethan has made great friends with. One has wild orange hair, which waves and shakes as she constantly smiles and giggles. Her companion is a tall, strong minded South African woman, who tells fantastic stories of how different South African parenting can be compared to English parenting. Namely giving salty biltong to babies as a teething aid, something our South African friend has spoken about too. Ethan really likes these two ladies and it adds a sweetness to our day.
Next, my students. Fascinated, scared and mainly amused as teenagers would be, it's amazing to see Ethan point and call out to the 'big kids' and just lovely to see them respond to him. One of my students found it quite magical that Ethan was 'talking' to her and holding her hand contently. It's a lovely part of the day.
Don't think it's all smiles, giggles and charming baby talk. It isn't. Some of the time, Ethan screams and wails the bus down when just before he was fine. On one particular day he did a shit of epic standards which I thought was some dirty bastard farting on the bus! I'm opening windows while Ethan sits there smiling literally like a piglet in shit.
The staring is the worst bit. The way people stare as though I need to DO SOMETHING! As though I've not thought of trying teething powder, or a cuddle or a drink or any other idea you may have. I understand a screaming babe is annoying but he is just that, a baby. At times he is an exhausted, teething wind filled baby! He's just telling us all about it!
Anyway, I've now just persuaded myself I actually hate the bus. Thanks blog. It's all your fault.
Thursday, 13 June 2013
Motherhood vs Life.
One of the articles inside focused on the choice by women to have or not have children. It turns out women are leaving it later in life generally to have children. No surprise. With women moving further forward in their careers, often with more stereotypically masculine attitudes to relationships (think Samantha from 'Sex and the City') and ever advancing medical science it's hardly news.
My issue with this piece is the clear distinction between 'I'm a success and didn't have kids; look at my fabulous life!' with 'I was a success but gave it all up; look at my wonderful mothering.' Either way, both hold a tone of 'you there! Yes you, the one reading? You're fucking shit and will never be this awesome.' Whether you are the 28 year old without children or the 25 year old with 2 or 3 at your feet, you can never be as successful as these women.
Now, I'm not blaming these women at all. They both seem to be great examples of women, when you dig beneath the bullshit. It's the journalism which I hold issue with. We are in a time now where women are forced to seek extreme ideals. While the idea of 'having it all' was once marketed as real womanhood, we are now faced with two opposing ideals. A choice with no middle ground, only perfection.
For the woman without children reading along, she is goaded into thinking her life should be as sophisticated and jet setting as woman A, rather than spending the odd night in front of 'The Voice' shovelling in popcorn in her PJs with the cat. Equally, for the mother (working or at home) she is faced with a frightening example of motherhood perfection; think a beautiful, baking, smiling miracle worker. This mother looks at woman B and then at herself; a milky bile or chocolate biscuit covered display in joggers cooking up fish fingers. How does she feel?
I come at this from the view of having been both these women. It doesn't take having children to make you a full, pure woman. Just as you don't need to live the life of a glamour girl 24/7. We just need to be left to live.
The whole portrayal of women in the Media gets on my wick anyway, but that's a whole other blog or ten. This article just goes to show that public attitudes to women haven't changed that much. You're either a sexy singleton or an angelic earth mother. Case and point.
Come on, have a day off Media. Don't you have a Mum too?
Monday, 10 June 2013
Only a Mother knows.
From this I have been thinking back on what I really gained, learnt from my childhood and one thing prevails. Be yourself. It may sound cliche but my parents really did and still do accept me and my brother for who we are, who we want to be, who we can be. For myself, I feel incredibly lucky to have parents who have been welcoming and accepting to my friends and past boyfriends. They have always instilled in me a link between my life in and out of their house. My parents have always accepted my hobbies and ever changing aspirations with support but an equal amount of realism. Most of all, my parents have always been open and accepting of my love for the unusual, whether that be fashion, music or tattoos. Although, I should probably add here that it was my Mum who got me into Siouxsie and the Banshees and persuaded me to listen to Marilyn Manson as a Greenday bopping teenager!
My parents have always been interested in our hobbies, our tastes, our life which was great. My Mum and Dad would stand in the crowd of my gigs playing drums in shit indie bands and in my days as an angst ridden goth singer! They even made it to a goth night to watch me DJ and my Mum always made sure I had big pants and tights to wear under my mini skirt! As I say, I think this is what I take most from my childhood and adulthood really: openness and acceptance.
Having such open parents does make it hard fucking work to rebel though. See Mum, I said fuck!
Even in adulthood my parents put up with me going through an array of fashions and phases along with going out with some pretty dodgy characters, several house moves and the decision to undertake teacher training after just 6 months living solo working in London. They still accepted me home for a year to do my teacher training. After this my parents allowed and accepted me travelling to Ghana alone for the summer which, while a woman of 26, I can see now how harrowing this would have been for them. In particular for my Mother, watching me check in at the airport knowing that from that moment on I am alone in an unknown world, without her protection or care.
Being a parent never ends. Being a Mother doesn't stop when they are off your hands. It just gets more difficult, as you are forced to let them go and learn to accept and love a new person. This person still holds the core of your baby, your child but has changed under the influence of not just you but the world outside of you. When we live in a world as cruel as ours, its no wonder this ensues madness.
Thursday, 23 May 2013
Even superheroes struggle some mornings.
As the day has progressed I have been busy and distracted of course but still looking forward to getting home to my boys. Still yearning for home.
Days like these are less frequent now but some mornings I still feel overcome with guilt, like a shroud sharply tightened, catching my breath the best I can. More than guilt though is the longing on these mornings. The longing to just wake up and be with my Son, the longing to give him everything, the longing to just be Mummy.
At least I am off next week, so while I have lots of work to get through at home, the Mummy days I long for are close in sight.
Wednesday, 22 May 2013
Everday Superhero.
"I used to be a superhero
no one could touch me
not even myself
you are like a phone booth
I somehow stumbled into
and now look at me
I am just like everybody else."
This metaphor for a life changing relationship is one we can all relate to and has taken on a whole new meaning since my return to work following maternity leave.
In one respect I used to be a superhero, able to put on a costume and get through anything with relative ease. Since having Ethan, I am more open, more exposed, more free. There is no time to hide behind a costume and no time for defences. I am a Mum and it is hard. Ethan is my phone booth in one respect as he has made me far more honest with my own emotions and more open in sharing my worries with others, regardless of whether this makes me appear weak or struggling. He has shattered my unnecessary defences.
Since returning to work it is as though I have accepted that at times I will struggle. At times relationships may be strained, I may be exhausted and work may be challenging. Thankfully I am lucky enough to work with and for people who accept this and understand the pressures I am facing first hand. I am surrounded day to day by people who understand that we are not robots; we are individuals. We each have individual needs just as we have individual skills and experience to bring to the school. I am not judged if I honestly say that Ethan has kept us up all night and I am exhausted. Instead people offer support and understanding, even if they can't fix the problem.
I can honestly say that the past half term back at work has been positively enlightening.
Back to superheroes though. While I feel like I have been stripped of one superhero costume I feel I may have exchanged it for another. Within a matter of minutes I go from Mummy to Teacher to professional woman to wife with no time to think. To say it is hectic is an understatement and to say it is demanding doesn't cut it. However, it is quite astounding really to think that I, well, women in fact, have the ability to switch between being at home in their comfort zone to out in the world of work in the tights and cape without a phone booth to get changed in.
Being a Mum is a job in itself, the hardest job of all. No training provided, no manual and no guarantee that your management techniques will work. When you add this to a job outside the home it is as though you are doing two separate jobs alongside each other. You finish one shift and head to the next. Sleep. Repeat.
Repeat may make it sound as though my life as it stands is banal or that I am unhappy. This couldn't be further than the truth. While it is challenging returning to work full time, I feel immensely proud that I am raising my own wonderful young man into the world while hopefully helping to raise even more young men and women. Being a teacher has changed for me since becoming a Mum. Before, I would listen to upset students and it was heartbreaking. Now, it breaks my heart because I can't help but see my own child in their position. When I have stacks of marking and am exhausted I think of Ethan as he grows and the importance of praise and feedback for him at school. What would I want for my Son? Surely all children deserve the same. Since my return, I have gained opportunities to use and expand my skills further at work. Over the next year things are changing and improving even further and I feel truly appreciated. The best part of it all is that I get to do this with a fabulous family behind me all the way. I can't really ask for much more.
The thing is, we all struggle sometimes but it is coming to terms with our imperfections and unreachable aspirations which is key. You know what? Sometimes I feed my family fish fingers for dinner rather than an all organic Anal-belle Karmel creation! Sometimes, the washing is stacked up and I febreeze my cardigan for work. Other days I go to work proud of my freshly washed dress and Ethan fucks it up with a carrot crisp. That's another thing: I feed Ethan treats on the bus to keep him amused. I also breastfeed him on the bus, however much it freaks people out. But guess what? Some Mums don't breastfeed and that's ok too! Another thing: some Mums do breastfeed their older babies when they have teeth! Some days I pick Ethan up later than planned because I am still working. Other days I am out the door as soon as possible because I just want to get home and be a Mummy. All of these things? They're ok. They might not be perfect but they are ok. There is nothing wrong with you, your child or your parenting. There is nothing wrong with your life so start loving its imperfections. They're what makes it yours.
Wednesday, 28 November 2012
Up in arms.
For some unknown reason I switched on to 'Lorraine' one morning this week while having breakfast as Ethan played in his gym. What I was faced with was four women discussing arms. Yes, you heard me right. Arms. In a deadly serious tone, as though they were finding a soution to world conflict or poverty. Apparently ladies, getting the correct size, style and tone of arm is the key to a happy Christmas and I dare say a happy life. Shit the bed, if I had known that I wouldn't have spent years searching for true love, good friends and building a family. I also wouldn't have bothered learning anything, teaching or writing. Cheers for the enlightenment Lorraine and chums.
I understand that obviously body image, dieting and exercise are topics of conversation on these shows but with a focus on arms it is more comedy gold than anything else. After watching a few minutes I decided to bake a massive cake with a shit load of sugar and butter in. That's my Christmas fucked then. If only I had paid more attention to Lorraine. Imagine the headlines: 'Daytime telly saved my arms AND family Christmas.' I've missed my chance but there is still time for your arms to be saved.
As a Mummy mate said when I told her about the feature: 'Lorraine can cock right off.' Couldn't have put it better myself.
Disclaimer: this is written for entertainment purposes and is in no way a personal attack against Lorraine and the gang.
Tuesday, 23 October 2012
Keep Rollin', Rollin', Rollin'
 |
| Knackered from the rolling! |
The most challenging part of the whole thing was probably getting it attached to the door frame in the first place. It seems baby equipment really isn't built to be easy to make or set up at all. The pram/car seat/transformer is the worst, with its secret buttons and straps and parts it really is one of the biggest challenges of having a baby!
 |
| Woooooooooooooah! |
 |
| Happy in this awesome number! |
 |
| Modelling my new H&M outfit! |
Saturday, 11 August 2012
Ethan George Hadley
Ethan is healthy, happy and totally perfect. The Hadley family are overjoyed he has arrived and so proud of him already. Daddy has been so amazing at looking after Mummy and Ethan and we are very lucky to have our extended family around us helping out.
One quick thing is that I cannot stress enough just how amazing giving birth at home is and how much I would suggest trying it if possible, as obviously each pregnancy is very different. The atmosphere was relaxed, even through the pain and difficulty of labour and once Ethan was born it was lovely to have him bought straight to me in our own bed and home with everything here. I love that the first place he experienced was his home.
More at some point soon; expect home birth, bigger babies and the thoughts and feelings of a new Mummy!
Thursday, 2 August 2012
Yoga: not just for hippies.
I can see what you are thinking. This woman is clearly a hippy so how does this support yoga as anything other than a pretenious pastime for the peculiar?
When I fell pregnant I hadn't undertaken a sustained amount of yoga time in several months and felt it would be an easy way to stay active without working too hard! However, I really have found that it has provided so much more than an easy way to prevent myself from feeling like a total sloth. While continuing to work full time in a highly pressured and intense job with the usual pregnancy gripes it was the only time I really experienced real relaxation. Whether this is simply because of the focus on movement, careful breathing or simply the quiet time to switch off I would suggest everyone should try it at some point, pregnant or otherwise. I also suggest doing so with the door shut with no risk of interruption to save yourself any hippy shame!
Right, I know that was a quick one but having completed my afternoon yoga session it is about time I headed off for some green tea and chick pea curry!
Wednesday, 1 August 2012
The good, the bad and the ugly.
I will start with the good but believe me, it is all downhill from here! People tell you about the pregnancy glow right? They may even tell you have it. In the early stages when you have been projectile vomiting for longer than the girl in 'The Exorcist' or even the parody of this legendary scene seen in 'Scary Movie 2' this is a ridiculous. As you move further on in pregnancy and seem to become more tired and aged than the coverage of the Olympic ticket farce already has done it feels on the cusp of offensive. Either this or blame the hormones. While some people may be saying you have the glow on a day when you really do look like shit to try and perk you up, I do believe there is some truth in it. I am not saying we have some kind of teen vampire sparkle but looking back at photos of myself I can see some truth in the preggo glow myth. Either that or blame the hormones. Again.
Next I come to the bad. There are plenty of bases to cover here. A base of constipation with a filling of piles and heart burn all topped off with stretch marks for good measure. Lush. This isn't to say that these aspects of pregnancy have been unbearable or are in any way not worth the final outcome; they are largly just amusing really. My own Mum saw my stretch marks just the other day and seemed surprised but told me, in her Rosie the Riveter manner to be proud of my stretch marks and what they represent. Outstanding advice in my opinion. Hence why these are only finalists in the category of bad. I am talking about the bad which are what I like to call baby wardens, belly monitors or the bump police. We all know them, those people who just love to comment on the size, shape and implication of your bump. They feel the need to tell you either how massive you are and what a beast of a baby you are going to have to push out of your nether regions or how tiny and lucky you are but that your baby will clearly be a tiny, malnourished specimen which will just pop out no trouble! In my case it was the later. From people I actually know to taxi drivers, it seems that bump development could be considered an Olympic spectator sport. I am sure they mean well but take a minute to think about it. At what other point in life do you approach a woman and tell them what a fat bastard or skeletal creature they are?
Time for the best bit. The ugly. If you have ever heard the phrase 'bumping uglies' I may have found where it originates. The challenge of the beaver in pregnancy. Let me take you back to my time in Ghana. My volunteer friend and I were getting dressed for the day and suddenly realised that with a lack of consistent running water or clean facilities we were beginning to develop an au natural approach to tackling said beaver and couldn't wait to tackle that bad boy on our return home. First on the list was a cheese sandwich and cup of tea. Next was the battle of the beaver. Let me tell you something, what I thought was a beaver discovery in Ghana was merely a simple squirrel in comparison to what has emerged over the past 9 months. In the beginning and for some time I was gaining points in the beaver wars but as time progressed and my view of the beast became even more limited I was forced to hold up my white flag and surrender. In the battle of Cat vs Beaver I am sad to say that beaver has well and truly won. KO.
You may as well laugh at the ridiculous bits of pregnancy. Otherwise you might just cry. Or maybe this is all the hormones talking yet again.
Monday, 30 July 2012
9 months and counting...
Well, I could have done that or I could have saved you all the mundane details of pregnancy! This isn't to say that being pregnant and expecting a child isn't the single most exciting and eye opening experience of my life so far. It is to say just that; it is an eye opening experience in my life. A private experience which, if many people were honest, really can get a little boring. Even as a pregnant woman myself there is only so much talk of heartburn, bump size and baby clothes I can take! Everyone has an opinion and everyone has a story to tell. It is just unfortunate that some of these people don't keep them to themselves.
Again, I probably sound as though I am rejecting my maternal insticts and refusing to throw myself into the pregnancy experience. I promise you this is far from the truth. Nothing has made me feel more complete than the past 9 months of feeling our unborn son kick me in the ribs, preparing our home for our new arrival or the endless dreams with my husband as to how our son will look, act and the person he will become. Ultimately the knowledge that I am capable of creating and maintaining another human life is the the most poetic experience possible. Somehow both intangible and absolute at once.
As a writer, teacher and general book geek I have found it a hard task to find a fitting metaphor for pregnancy, an able adjective for my greatest creation. It either isn't possible or I have finally discovered why I am a failed writer aka English teacher. To clarify I love teaching but it does take a sense of humour.
With an accute awareness that at any moment the unborn child I have been supporting will be here and we will be responsible for his life outside the comfort of the womb I am filled with conflicting thoughts, feelings and questions. All of which are normal. All of which are real. All of which are part of the experience. I won't bore you with the details but promise to see you on the other side of the past 9 months.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)