fairies and trolls

Scarlett is asking questions. Tricky questions. No not about genitals or reproduction, but ones I can’t answer – or feel the need to lie about.

Each night at bed time she asks me to tell her a made up story. Not just any made up story though – it has to be about her getting lost in fairy land. I find it fascinating how she can be so into the glittery, girly, nauseating fairy stuff, but also with the macabre ideas of loss and tragedy.

Most nights I indulge her wishes and try to think of new (not too scary) stories about her getting lost in fairy land. This evening’s story saw her being trapped by a troll after she mistakenly walked over his bridge. She listens so intently to my stories, never interrupting once. At the end of the story the wishing, wondering and questions start.

She often simply tells me ‘I wish fairies were really real mum’. I tell her that if she believes in them they can exist in her imagination. I am a bit reluctant to crush her dreams too much and she has such a vivid imagination and I don’t want to stifle it.

Tonight after our story she asked me ‘how can fairies be real but not trolls?’ Just when I think I’ve got my answers straight, she stumps me with a new one. Maybe I should just stick to telling the same story over and over again to iron out any problems and potential answers to questions early.

Lying to my children is something I’ve struggled with before. I’m sure as christmas approaches I will feel more guilty as I lay on the santa lies. Little Xavier may even start asking the questions. He is so much less innocent than Scarlett ever was at his age (due largely to his big sister), and he is pretty quick to pick up on things. There’s no knowing how long the facade of fairies and make believe will last though. I guess I’ll just hold on for now…

the ugly truth

I often find myself talking to other mothers who reluctantly admit the troubles they have had/are having/feel they will continue to have forever, over the course of raising their children. I am the first one to admit  how hard I have found being a mother to anyone who will listen.

In the very early days of parenthood, I felt all these terrible things – baby blues perhaps added to them – and I felt that there must have been something wrong with me. Why didn’t I feel like to women in commercials appear to feel, and why did I long for my pre-baby life so much?

Through the advice of a wonderful community nurse and meeting my new mothers group, I was able to feel more normal. I know many new parents have this revaluation when they speak with other parents about all the terrible things noone ever told you about before having children. I feel particularly fortunate to have met a group of women who I have stayed close to for the past four years, and who are prepared to talk openly about their feeling and experiences of being a mother.

It is because of the genuine concern and security I feel amongst this group, that when I meet other mothers who are alone in their struggles I really feel for them. I may sometimes exaggerate my own hardships in order for them to feel more at ease about how they are feeling. I have to laugh when they tell me that they are glad to hear my confessions as they had seen me as a ‘perfect mum’ who would never yell at her kids, want to run away from them, break down and cry when they can’t cope etc.

I often find myself feeling jealous of those mothers who cherish the whole experience. I wonder if I were able financially to stay at home, would I be able to feel happy in myself if I devoted myself more to my children? Aside from the adult conversation that I missed while staying at home, I also feel a need to foster the career that I carved out before having children. I want to continue to work at my goals and not make my life all about my children. Does that make me selfish? Perhaps.

Not only do I have plenty of my own guilt to keep me going, but there always seems to be just a few of those other mothers around who wish to make you feel worse by making unwanted comments and/or suggestions. Do these people actually think they are being helpful? Do they not realise that some days you just don’t have the time to make your own pizza dough from scratch so you order take away?

bad mother #21

You know you’re a bad mother when… your two year old (who should be in bed sleeping) falls asleep sitting upright in the trolley while you are doing the grocery shopping.

bad mother #20

You know you are a bad mother when… while vacuuming the floor in preparation for a long over due mopping, you have this conversation with your four year old:

Scarlett: Have we got visitors coming over Mum?
Me: No, why would you ask that?
Scarlett: Because you only ever put the chairs up (to vacuum) when we have visitors coming

bad mother #19

You know you’re a bad mother when… you serve your children’s dinner with a bit too much chilli in the sauce without testing it first. Oops.

the young lady is four

Four years ago today my first born baby girl was born. Blissfully unaware of the struggles we would face, I held her in my arms so completely amazed that this child was ours to take home and take care of. I sometimes feel like I have already failed in setting all the good examples I set out to, and I worry that your temperament is a little too similar to my own, but I love her more than I can even begin to explain.

At four you are:

• extremely imaginative and creative which at times can lead to stretching the truth in your favour, but it shows how clever you are
• starting to be more responsible and are trying to educate your brother in various important life lessons – leading by example in good and bad ways
• totally engrossed in creating a magical fairy land in the stories you tell (or instruct us to tell you) each night at bedtime
• beginning to do some amazing drawing and craft work which show how imaginative you are – I love seeing what creations you come up with
• starting to want to read for yourself and are always asking what letters and words are so you can learn for yourself
• still my little baby even though you so desperately don’t want to be

I love you at each step – even when it’s a struggle – and I make sure you always know that. I look forward to watching you grow and learn over the next year. xoxo

today my boy is two

Two years ago today my baby boy was born. I didn’t know I could love another as much as my first born, but I do in so many ways.

 At two you are:

• finally starting to show your own little attitude, but it’s so adorable that I forgive you for it
• just as cuddly as the day you were born, but now you don’t need me to pick you up constantly 
• talking more and more every day and coming up with the cutest sayings like “I love it” about everything you like even remotely
• starting to have your own ideas instead of going along with everything your sister does – it’s caused some conflict but I think it’s good for you to have your own ideas
• so hungry that I worry I won’t be able to keep up with your appetite in a few years time let alone when you’re a teenager
• so different to your sister it isn’t funny – not that that’s a bad thing all the time
• still our little baby – so much so that after your bath every night you say “rock me like a baby” and insist on being wrapped up and sung to

I love you so much more than you will ever really understand…

bad mother #18

You know you’re a bad mother when… you try to counteract the fish and chips you gave the kids for dinner with three types of fruit for dessert.

bad mother #17

You know you’re a bad mother when… your daughter resorts to making craft with empty tampon boxes because you’ve packed almost all the toys and craft supplies in boxes. (we are moving house soon but still)

at thirty four i….

It seems that the last decade has passed by ever so quickly, and I have rarely had the time to stop and think about myself and what I have become/what I am becoming. Today as I turn thirty four, I thought I would share some things about me:

• I don’t worry about getting ‘old’ (yet)
• I am quite sociable and friendly to strangers (something I certainly was not before becoming a mother)
• I sometimes feel anxious and a little depressed, but think that is just part of life
• I do not believe in god (which I have not openly admitted until quite recently)
• I feel very lucky to have a career I enjoy and feel competent in
• I sometimes worry that I am doing the ‘wrong’ thing by my children
• I miss having both my sisters living in the same state as me
• I love sitting back and observing or listening to people on public transport and at public events
• I have a bad memory (which is why I am a compulsive list writer and diary keeper)
• I am more fit now than I have been in over a decade
• I constantly struggle with myself over my own feminism
• I have never really travelled anywhere (something I am looking forward to in the future)
• I am (a little) more patient with people than I have ever been
• I never really liked being alone until I had children but I now appreciate every second I have to myself
• I would like to participate again in some form of activism – I’ve been absent from such things since Scarlett was a baby

At preschool in slacks and velour