The mancub

If child development is supposed to be some gradual, almost unnoticeable build up of changes then the mancub hasn't been following the rules (for a change).

I've always theorised that females have slower, but more constant changes to their bodies and minds, whilst males have sudden bursts of metamorphosis. I'm not talking puberty here though I guess that's the most obvious with girls gradually looking more womanly and boys suddenly waking up one day sounding and looking like they've made a wish on a creepy fortune machine a la the movie 'Big'!  It's throughout life, at the other end of the spectrum men look the same for years then suddenly look, well, old.

Anyway. I digress. The mancub has been blasting out changes daily. He's pretty much dropped daytime sleeps (much to the annoyance of Newt who is missing her hour of peace and iPad time), he's stopped using nappies at all now - even at night and for days out, and the biggy - he's just started actually talking. Not just one or two things that I am able to translate actually saying new words all day long. It's as if he's realised he can so he is. Each time looking at me proudly afterwards with an edge of surprise that matches my own. It's lovely.

It's also quite poignant and a bit emotional for me. As I wait to meet my new little person who is growing inside me it's as if they are waiting a day here and there just enough for him to be that tiny bit more ready than he was the hour before. 

Last night we didn't quite rock the daytime nap drop, he was exhausted and ready to sleep from far to early and woke disorientated and weepy at about half eleven. He didn't even open his eyes as he walked zombie like, arms out front into my room across the hall and climbed into bed and into my arms. He nestled like a baby and put his arm around my waist in the manly reassuring manner he has always done and slept. As I looked down at his sweet blonde curls framing his face, his light freckles tickling his nose and cheeks and his long lashes pressed tightly shut I felt complete and utter love for my baby boy. And yet at the same time a sense of letting go too. 

I think we are both ready now to welcome this new little life. I wonder if tonight will be the night. Will tomorrow morning be the morning that mancub climbs into bed with me to find me not alone? How will he feel? What will his smiley face really read? Oh wow, this motherhood thing is intense sometimes!

Bottoms up

Well first we had the surprise of baby. Then there was the good ole 'it might be twins' week....and for now things have been pretty quiet.

I've been feeling good apart from a potential pelvic girdle pain flare up that settled after a few weeks (over did the hill walking on a home ed trip...entirely my own fault). But then today at my final check before I'm on a home run for our planned Homebirth we have the rather fun news that baby is now breech. 

At 36 weeks I'm not worried, there's time to move and this baby has been every way every day now...it's just a very wriggly little person (and my body is clearly very loose and stretchy haha). After confidently brushing aside any concerns from midwife my brain started to whir a bit after she had left. The first was that I've just not had the same connection with this little one, I've never known what on earth they are doing in there, what's a foot and what's a head, if there was one or two and definitely not if they feel more like a girl than a boy. The second realization was that actually perhaps they have been interchanging between breech and transverse more than I thought. Having had the midwife show me what head felt like I'm now realising that what I've been thinking is bum and feet for some time is actually head and hands. Hmmmm. 

So whilst I had on my list of things to discuss cord ties...it looks like I may end up having to discuss my intention to still plan homebirth for the time being at our next visit instead.

Off to sit and read the Spinning Babies website......

Hand wash cold

I've tried hard to find pleasure in the daily tasks of keeping a home. I've read Karen Maezen Miller 'Hand wash cold' in the hope that this would inspire me somehow. I signed up to the Flylady daily blinks which have tips for keeping on top of your house. I did the Goddess Haven E-course on the Goddess Circle & had a nice corner in a room for a short while that I could focus on and enjoy (it didn't last long sadly).
Still not there though.
I quite enjoy it when it's not essential, when I'm doing it because I have time and I want to. Such as hanging out the washing. I've loved that since I first started doing my own washing. Early in the morning before there is anyone else around I have a quiet, peaceful five minutes where I contemplate nothing but the folds in the sheets and the positioning of the pegs on the line. This little job brings about exactly the mood and tranquil, accepting state Karen describes. From my poorly designed little old terrace the washing blowing in the breeze is one of the few things to glimpse in the garden whilst sat inside. Not satisfied with enjoying hanging it out often I then watch it as it sways and ripples in the sun and constant gentle fen winds. Now I just need to find a way of the hoovering, washing up, cleaning of tables and scrubbing of sinks to bring about the same peaceful, zen like state.
I've kind of accepted that I won't get that vibe going though until the children are older. When the tasks seem a little less on a loop, when the sheer mess made by their existence just pauses for breath occasionally! We're still at the phase where by the time I've wiped a worktop there's a spillage on a floor to mop. I know older children hold their own on the adding to mess front but surely it's not quite the same porridge on a chair cushion, crayon on a mirror and toilet roll shredded around the house? Please tell me that's not forever?

Still. I try not to moan and do my best at looking dutiful and neutral as I go. Hopefully the children will accept it all as part of being part of our household and like me, mutter under their breath as they scrub 'think zen think zen'.

Barefoot Beats

I love music. I'm not gifted enough to play any instruments (yet) but I do have the equally special mind that really deeply enjoys music. It is essential as air for me.

On the occasions where I nip to the shops alone the only times I choose not to share the moment with my faithful headphones is when there is a rather pleasant song of the brassy blackbird singing through the air. And ever since my sixth Christmas, when I was given what was possibly my favourite and most influential gift - my little red Walkman - I've enjoyed music daily from dusk til dawn and often even in the hours in between. 

It was one of my ideals of starting a blog to share this passion. To provide that jumping off point to discovering a new artist or that introduction to a different sound that may not have been heard before. It sounds a bit inflated of me now I come to share it. 

It's not that I know so much. It's not that my knowledge is so eclectic or impressive. It's just that I have some and I meet so many others that don't. They might be missing out on something they don't even know how much they love yet. 

It's on that 'note' if you will that I will begin to offer my hopefully weekly post on a song or album. This is not going to be any big column of the year nomination bid or anything. Just my excited ramble on why I think something is so cool and why you should try it...even just this once. 

If it takes your fancy watch out here for posts tagged Barefoot Beats and meanwhile...while you await my first expression of musical appreciation get on with downloading Spotify and YouTube on your phone or whatever it is that you use to visit me. Dig out the headphones or at least switch back on the speakers of your laptop (am I the only one who has this turned to off so I can sneak on and off my laptop without any little people wanting a go on Animal Jam?!). 

You might not like all I have to offer and you will probably not agree with all that I have to say about it necessarily but it will be fun to find out wont it?

How do you want to be remembered?

A friend linked to this blog post the other day from Hands Free Mama, along with the comment that it was 'thought provoking'. I agree it really was. Along with also being very true, very real and very honest. It was uncomfortable in places and encouraging in others. I liked it.
It reminded me of my own pledge a year ago for my children not to remember the top of my head and the tap of my fingers as a lasting memory of their mother. Of my own inward struggle to manage my temper and demonstrate to my little mirror and firebox how to cope with situations without erupting and how to channel the flow when there is no other choice. Also of the ongoing reality of being a mother to my children, my business and myself. Letting myself also be nurtured and loved, giving myself opportunity to grow.
So yes dear friend it was thought provoking. I've come further than I ever realised but am still finding opportunities each day to learn from my less fine moments. But of all else it made me think about what my children will think.
What do you most want your children to remember you as? Loving? Kind? Gentle? Consistent? Fun? Happy? Brave?
I know my fathers generation of parents had a whole different expectation and not forgetting also a reality darkened by wartime pain and memories. My dad would have probably described his mum as a fighter. She was the fantastic tiny little hard as nails northern nanna. If I'd have grown up with her as my mother I wouldn't have pissed her off let's just say! Yet despite never remembering once any loving words from her lips, or even a moment of physical affection when hurt or scared I know so deeply she loved me fiercely. She would do anything for me, for us. As a child I knew it and it still resonates through me now when I think of her.

                            The lovely Edith Mary (second from left) with my grandad, John (first left)


Perhaps being amazing for our children isn't as hard as all the books and blogs make out. Perhaps we just need to really really love our children. Maybe as wild as it seems that is enough.

Enjoying our time together

About three months into this pregnancy I had a wobbly week or two.
My youngest, the mancub, was still so much my baby. Was it unfair of me to not start 'preparing' him somehow? Should I be easing him 'off me' if there was such a thing? We sleep snuggled up, he fed from me still and whilst newt goes off and has days out, and even weekends away with family he stays firmly here with me. Not because he wants to necessarily but just because he's the little one & it's easier for him to be with me.
As his daytime naps became more sporadic the daytime feeds slipped off completely. Before long it was only a bit of bedtime and breakfast booby...as much about getting him to sleep and letting me have a bit longer in the morning - not essential but just what was wanted and worked for us both. All of a sudden there was a week where he fell asleep every night without asking for boob. A week later I tried offering him a drink and a snack at 5am (his usual wake up time) and that's where we stayed. Thanks to my irritation at the continuous crumbs in the bed (argh pet hate alert) the snacking in bed faded out too now. We just have a drink, a cuddle and get up. Booby has finished though he occasionally still asks when he wakes. But for now the night long snuggles haven't.
I decided instead of preparing him for having me less I'd make sure that these final few months he has me as much as he can. I'm his.
On the days when Newt is out and about with others I've made a special effort to enjoy each other. Instead of using it as a chance to catch up on work I've used it as time to be together.
We've explored the riverbank. Played cars and read stories (....well the same story..over and over!).

Preparing him through attachment, through love and connection feels so much more right. I've been woken by kisses and strokes instead of demands. He runs to get his sandals when Newt leaves for her grandmas instead of crying at the door, knowing we will go somewhere together soon.

 

There is plenty of time for him to not need me. I'm just going to savour this time that he does.

Week 29 - As you were

Well it's been an eventful few days. Or rather it hasn't. I've been on a huge journey and feel like so much has changed yet nothing is any different.

Last week at my routine midwife appointment my midwife, who has been my midwife for all of this and both of my other pregnancies, thought she could hear two heartbeats, one each side. She couldn't work out what position baby was in and was concerned about the general size of bump (though not huge it was very high and full).
Thing is. I wasn't sure either. For about a month I've thought the movements seemed to be very continuous, the position of baby hard to fathom and in general...I felt very full. Whereas last time there was never any doubt to my connection with baby this time I've found it harder. I've felt different and since early on have joked and teased my already anxious husband about there being two!

We talked and I agreed that this would be one of those situations that a scan would be acceptable for us. I had already decided that before I went in had there been any doubt about multiples. The earliest scan I could get was four days later on Monday. Before leaving I quickly slipped in the next most important question....had she done many twin home births?!

On the long walk home though the emotional roller coaster set pace. Coupled with no lunch (cue instant upset lol) I was already finding it hard not to think about it. Kind of like sitting in an empty room with only a red button saying 'do not push'. This was the first day. Shock and slight panic. The second day was the classic guilt, embarrassment and fear. Fear of there being only one and feeling stupid. Fear of there being two. Embarrassment of how much weight I've put on. Guilt at how if there was just one how anything else could all be my fault...too much sugar, too little exercise. Why haven't I been more careful. How did I let it get so bad as to give myself gestational diabetes or worse. Thankfully day three was easier. Poor dude blurted it out to a friend at a festival - I had the upper hand now of being able to say...way to go to keep a secret! We just didn't go there all day, quietly reassuring and loving each other was enough that day. And day four my brain decided enough was enough and it would take charge. It stepped in with the one thing that it knows I will always listen to and cannot ignore. Money worries. It decided to spend the day making me panic and freak about our general lack of finance. Thanks brain. Worked though.

By the time we actually went into the maternity unit I was back to thinking that there would be only one and was not really even surprised when the scan showed just one wriggly mobile busy baby.

It's left a strange deluge of baggage washed up on the shore though. Though my mind is obviously relieved...five months ago I was freaking slightly at the prospect of fitting in just one baby after all....yet my heart feels sad a bit still. This baby has not had any of the excitement and attention the other two earnt. The guilt is already present for that. And I feel strangely now like I haven't any excuse for taking it easy a bit like I would have had there been two little pairs of feet squiggling around in there. Which is daft I know. I'm still having a baby. I'm still mum to two younglings, running a home and a business. Somewhere along the way having a third baby and my general day to day exposure to baby land had taken some of the sacred magic out of all of this.
I also discovered that despite my general feeling of impartialness to the idea of having to go to hospital etc that in fact the only reason I'm so ok about it is that I've not had anything to do with the place for five and a half years! I'm not as ok with it as I thought I was. I was a wreck on the inside at the potential loss of power just going into reception. Might need to work on that after all, you never know what's going to happen even with a Homebirth. I don't fancy tackling that one much during or after labour or something.

I am trying not to think about whether the scan itself was unnecessary now either. Thats Pointless now. I think I needed it this time to ease my multiple mindset. Though I know my midwife respects my decision not to scan and has never pushed against my choice not to have any blood tests etc either I also knew she would probably raise it again at some point in the nine months as we already discussed her feelings towards going into Homebirth without knowing placenta location last time round. At least I can say for sure now there is nothing for them to bother me about and I can go back to slipping nicely under the radar as suits me.

I'll go back to being my nearly normal self. To the outside world I'd never been anywhere anyway. All I'll say is, in the words of Vinny Jones 'its been emotional'.

Can you teach empathy?

Have been pondering on empathy today. So many things in the last year have happened to me which I have witnessed or listened to others experiencing. And I have listened. And tried to imagine how they must feel. But really is there anyway of ever learning true empathy without first experiencing something first hand?
It's such an admiral trait and something often on the list of things we'd all most like our children to display but is that really even possible! They could surely be compassionate or caring but can they ever have empathy? I remember discussing this with my brother in law once as we took the girls out for a day out together by the lakes. He was describing how proud he was of his daughter, how caring she was and how much empathy she had for others. How he thought she might be a teacher, or doctor or nurse one day. He was genuinely taken aback at my honesty at my feelings that my daughter wasn't any of those things really and sometimes it worried me a bit but mostly, I just accepted she wasn't like that yet, or maybe even ever. Of course, she is upset at seeing others upset, she wants everyone to be happy, she tries to make things better but she also just gets on with things, in a oh well its happened style.
For me, it was only when I actually had stress, anxiety about a situation for a few weeks this summer that I really saw that it meant to be like my husband who feels very anxious with certain new, unknown situations. As this is something that I've just never felt the nerves, the sleepless nights about something, fast heart and fluttering stomach for days at a time, I'd never seen how it must be to actually regularly feel like that. I called my sister, who has a well balanced understanding of natural health, conventional medicine and most of all of me. I described how ill I was, how unusual it was for me, how I was wondering if it could be this or that...she just quietly listened on the end of the line and at the end just said 'its stress'. Of course it was. Why didn't I see that? I'd have noticed it instantly in another person. Suddenly I felt terrible about how dismissive I had been over the years at my husbands reaction to this debilitating disease taking over my body and mind. I'd never been mean about it but I had expected him to try to manage it more. Now I  knew.
This wasn't the first time lately it has happened. Strikingly similar scenerios have evolved for me that have happened to those around me who I had some unknown til that moment deep buried guilt that I could have done more to help with or provided a more comforting ear. It's a scary thought too to think I've now opened the door to as worrying that everything heavy or difficult that happens to others is a test on me somehow. If I don't support or care for them enough will this happen to me in some weird karma twist of fate all to teach me some lesson?
I think a healthier, more helpful way of approaching it will be for me instead to start thinking, what would I feel like in that situation? What would I need if that happened to me? And then considering what I could realistically and reliably offer. I'm a get on with it kinda gal. I'm private and pretty self contained and as such struggle sometimes to appreciate that not everyone is like that, and that in fact its a good job they aren't.
Ponder/ramble over. For now anyway. Back to focusing on learning from and improving life with this reflection, one of my resolutions was to say goodbye to guilt....time to start waving and keep it simple, just remember to love others.

Week 10: Outing ourselves.

We started to tell people this week about baby. I think we both realised it was not going to feel any more real until we did. We could quite happily carry on as if everything was the same and not all different which was easy but not helping us to get our head around it!
But the weird thing is...everything is the same. It's the future that's changed not now. And even then it was only a possible future, one that existed in our minds eye only. There's a cool Buddhist quote along the lines of 'if you are depressed you are living in the past, if you are anxious you are living in the future. If you are at peace you are living in the now' or words to that effect! Sounds right to me.

Time to look back on 2012's goddess workbook

The first year I bought the Goddess Guidebook was in 2010. I didn't complete much of it, I loved reading it, looking at it and thinking about it but was weirdly precious about actually writing in it! Keeping it all shiny and organised but effectively empty.
I found this quite striking when it came to starting to complete the next years one, 2012. In essence it illustrated a lot of what wasn't right for me. Saving stuff for the right time, waiting for the optimal conditions and perfect moment.

So last year I approached it differently. I found two friends who had also Joined the Goddess Circle the year before and we arranged a day that we would meet up, each month for the rest of the year and called it our goddess gathering. We started by meeting and talking about what we had completed so far , drew oracle cards for the year together and started a group chat between the three of us on 'What's app' where we showed our pictures, discussed entries and ideas.
A year later and we have met up about half of the times we planned....not bad for three busy mamas! One of us helped the other two complete a goal for the year when we created a piece of art together and generally we have shared, supported and stayed connected.

 

At the end of this year I have decided to continue with my membership and have begun my workbook for next year and one of us have moved to a different online tribe, with Tara Wagner, the other has found the peace she searched for and left all of the online communities, sold the possessions no longer holding their weight in her new balanced life (mostly to me hehe!) and moved on though, it goes without saying our virtual private circle on 'What's app' has stayed strong and we stay in touch daily, usually off and on for most of it. I like to think of it as our virtual garden fence.

Nowhere in my guidebook for last year did I list 'create a strong supportive friendship with two wonderful women' but if I had it would definitely have been ticked off! It has shown me the importance of having deep connections with a few select people and looking back over the year I can see how positively that has influenced me. Looking ahead a strong theme of this years book is already coming through and that is less is more. Less people in my life but all meaning more. I want to put more energy into less things. My husband and children, our home and daily life together, my fantastic mum and sisters, then the select but strong little group of friends that are growing around us.

 

 

The one where she cancels everything

I know Friends is naff. I never wanted to like it but after an accidental viewing way back in series one I actually cried laughing and fell in love with its horrible fake thin view of the world and their summary of six character types existing in it. I see it as quite strong minded of me actually to openly admit I like it and find it funny as its just not the cool thing to do!
Anyway. For those of you who share my shameless love of the sitcom you will get why I named this week to myself 'the one where Shona cancels everything'.
After realising and accepting that the Mancub is poorly, that I am subsequently exhausted and that it would be next to worthless to try and continue as planned this week I cancelled all my Appointments, my visits and meet ups. It was powerful to let go like this. To let go of what I should do. To let go of the notion I was letting anyone down. And to commit entirely rather than just verbally to being here for my son when he needed me not just physically but emotionally.
Not everyone understood. The dentist receptionist was unconvinced and a little uppity about my rescheduling, one of the people I was scheduled to meet didn't even reply to my message to acknowledge its receipt. But the majority, some in a much suckier position than me, just wholly agreed and wished me best. Even the professional bod awaiting a response from me found the time to send me get well soon thoughts and festive wishes.
Maybe I could do this more. Not in a let people down don't turn up at last minute way but in a nope I can't do that so I'm not going to kind of way.
This year was the year I began learning how to let go. It's taken a year to get this far and I can see there is still so much yet to learn too. I can see how much lighter I will feel when I have actually released all of these expectations and obligations. When I was a teenager I pretty much never did anything I didn't want to. Not in an intentionally selfish way just in a breathing in and out what feel right now way. I always felt quite true to myself and had that beautiful quality of zero care for others thoughts of me. I never expect to regress to tho sweetly naive state again, realistically not would I want to really either but I would like to have that sense of lightness and realness to my life and person again. It's like waving to a familiar but forgotten friend.
New year resolution one - get to know her again, she was fun!

A bonus morning

A meeting was cancelled this morning leaving me ‘newtless’ and with a time credit. This should have been a positive thing, a relief – a gift really. But instead I am two hours in and doing everything I shouldn’t be and subsequently am now saying lots of things to myself that I would consider someone else saying to themselves as ridiculous.

I have so far idled away valuable time doing nothing. Incapable of concentrating. Incapacitated by the weight of stuff to do. I used to have a running joke with a friend about what her pull cord would say if she had one and even what my own would say, well lately mine has pretty much gone...’I have so much to do. I need to get some work done. I have so much to do. I have to get some work done’. Yawn or what?  The wisdom of Goddess Leonie’s words, spoken with her always happy, always shining aussie accent...”one thing at a time dearheart” keep coming back to me. I would be saying to someone else, someone not me that by doing nothing they are doing something equally important. That by turning your thoughts and much cherished time to something it must be of value to some part of you. That sounds great doesn’t it? Why then am I so disappointed and cross with myself!?

 At the moment I am adoring  exploring the world of radical living. Words such as honest, genuine, real and authentic all fly about my thoughts like little butterflies gently distracting and holding my attention for long enough to just consider their existence. Why then is it so hard to apply these concepts to ourselves and not just our children? A short lifetime of conditioning is awaiting removal from my mind. There’s probably less discipline, guilt and ‘should do’s clogging up my grey matter than there is in most peoples, ultimately there is not a lot of grey in my matter, more primaries really with a few pastels. I am a daydreamer, easily distracted & pretty willing to do pretty much whatever I most feel like doing most of the time but it is still there...niggling guilt..lurking in the shadows. My mind is thinking it needs to step in and prevent this self-sabotage somehow, to wrangle for control of the steering wheel and get me on the right track again.

There is much work to be done in this society...or rather undone anyway.  Teaching myself gentleness is coming in lots of forms. Perhaps all of this is just a way of understanding how difficult it might be for others to embrace this way of thinking..perhaps its all been a fantastic lesson in empathy, maybe it’s been a powerful and enlightening reflection or even just an hour not doing anything in-particular. Wonderful. I must remember to schedule this in next week so I can give it a healthy tick when I’m finished.