School holidays

I have always loved school holidays. 

It was a time to reconnect with my children, to embrace them, hold them, hug them tight and cuddle in front of the telly without constraint. 

It was a time to cherish them and be a fun mum who wasn’t necessarily telling them to hurry up or to get ready or do their homework or ensure they showed me notices.

It was a time to make pancakes, cuddle in bed reading books, visit the museum and the zoo, and go to the park without needing to be home at any specific time.

One time we wrote a story after a walk when a dog followed us home and we had to find its owner and get it home.

And sometimes we would walk to the koala crossing just down the road and put leaves in our mouth and cross the road pretending to be koalas crossing the road.

And later I would get the kids to eat salad by pretending to be different animals....lizards and koalas and giraffes.

One time we made plasticine figurines and made little book scenes, and we read Enid Blyton books and went to the library and came home with as many books as they allowed.

I wrote letters from the tooth fairy with wondrous descriptions of how their perfect teeth were being used to make necklaces and stars. And even got my friend to write a letter when they were at a sleepover. Just because I could spread some magic and joy. So I did. 

I showed them how books could open up whole worlds, and pretended to be a waiter for our very own restaurant that sold home made meals and had a set menu, but there were menu cards and I would take their order nevertheless.

And when they couldn't sleep, I invented sleep cards, and I made a card for every bed time with a benefit of sleep and why they should try to go to sleep and what we would do the next day.

Car seat day was on a Thursday I think. The day I'd put a little something on their car seat when I'd pick them up from school just because.

And i got to go to excursions and camps and play like a kid again. I had never been on camp before I went with them.

And every day I would just gorge on their awesomeness and just love them. Savour every moment that I was fortunate enough to get to be their mum.

How lucky did I get to have the two best children in the world be my kids? Mind boggles.

These kids have saved my life. And I will never say otherwise. With every bit of joy I imparted, a small bit of me healed and put me back together. 

They have shown me how to love unconditionally and I will adore them for being who they are until the day I die. And probably beyond if it is in my power to do so.

They have taught me patience, how to regulate my emotions, how to breathe and let little things go. They have taught me how not to stay angry and let a fight go straight after I admonish them. They have taught me to correct behaviour and not who they are.

They have taught me that the most important thing in life is to live, and not what you have at the end of it, whether it be material or qualifications. They have taught me that you can be perfect at being imperfect. 

And that even I can love without hurting.

That I can love without hurting.

My biggest fear before I became a parent. I didn’t want to hurt them. That’s why I didn’t want to have children for such a long time.

They are truly the best thing I will ever do. 

They are the result of healing and peace, the result of years of introspection and a wish to be something else, to break a cycle I had no choice in.

I am forever grateful to them.

Who knows if I’d still be here if I had not chosen a path that included children. 

They are so pure and fun, and untouched by cultural norms and innocent and warm. Loving and even in their teens, taught me to let go and allow freedom and independence. In their horrible moments, they taught me to love them despite their anger and frustration and yearning to be separate from me. 

And now that I can feel everything again, I am so absolutely and fully in love with those human beings.

All I can say is please don’t wish them back at school. Enjoy their red cheeks and happy smiles. Enjoy their small uncoordinated attempts at cooking and allow their exploration and breakages around the home. It is so worth it, and they really do grow up too fast and inevitable fly the coup. As they should.

I told this to a co worker today who was pregnant. She told me she often hears a lot of negative comments about motherhood. And so do I. But honestly. It’s 99% wonderful and only 1% shitty. I don’t know anything else that has such fantastic odds.

Enjoy your parenting journey.