Thursday, June 16, 2016
why are extra-curricular activities so challenging?
A few hours later Bron published this post which had many, many women nodding their heads, offering words of solidarity, admitting to their very own overwhelm and anxiety. And as she described her children's extra-curricular activities I had a bit of a lightbulb moment of my own (thanks for that, Bron).
You see, the driving around of an afternoon to various activities is one of the most challenging parts of parenthood for me. And what's most alarming about this scenario is that I keep things on the activity front to an absolute minimum. Che does drama, Poet does dancing and they both do a swimming lesson - spread out over three afternoons in the middle of the week. I also have lots of help from the grandparents so in no way am I doing it all alone.
For a while there I was questioning why it was so difficult and then yesterday, I realised - it's so much more than the activity. One single afternoon activity requires the following: afternoon tea prep, a spare change of clothes/costume, school pick-up, driving to the activity, waiting in the car (sometimes wrangling Percy), driving home, delayed witching hour, late dinner, chaotic bath/bed time. The 1-hour activity takes, on average, over three hours from start to finish.
Perhaps I'm still a novice and things will get easier but I can't help but think of years to come when the kids' social lives get busier and I inevitably take on the role of taxi-mum. If I'm completely honest, it doesn't look that appealing.
Just this afternoon I was chatting to a friend at school pick-up and he said he always questions the sustainability of an activity when he finds it challenging. As in: is this sustainable for the whole family? How can we make this work for everyone's wellbeing? Are we in this for the long haul or will we crumble under the pressure? These are such good questions to continually ask ourselves as parents.
As our children grow and start engaging in various social and extra-curricular activities, we must adapt to the changes, find new ways of doing things and reassess if it's all too hard. One thing I definitely know is that come next year, when Poet starts school, I'll say no to all activities for that first term. Because if I remember anything from Che's first term at school it's this: school is enough - there is no space for anything else.
Do you find this part of parenthood challenging or is it just me?
Labels: parenting , the school series
Sunday, December 04, 2011
- came to terms with the fact that the washing fairy doesn't exist
- wondered why our summer has, so far, been pretty wintry
- got angry at the lego
- made 'Christmas Lights' wrapping paper with Che (painted dots on paper)
- ate brie on baguette for lunch
- discovered that a 21-month-old friend of mine has more coordination that I'll ever have
- wrote a budget for Christmas (the numbers aren't adding up!)
- realised that one tidy room in the house is good enough
- taught a pre-natal class and missed the rubbing of my pregnant belly
- congratulated myself for mentally repeating "do not get attached" when Poet slept 12 hours last week
- suddenly remembered what it's like to have a baby who feeds all. night. long
- had an afternoon nap
- relished in the sipping of a cappuccino
- sat under a willow tree and watched children run around the vegie garden
- kissed Poet's incredibly chubby and squeezable cheeks
- admired my new vintage basket
- cuddled with Che and read Christmas stories
- took photos with Daniel and later, compared notes on composition, lines and lenses.
- decided that an early night would probably be best
Labels: i thread words together , parenting , weekends
Thursday, June 02, 2011
I'll admit that I was suffering from motherguilt because I had never taken Che to the dentist. Motherguilt has incredible power; it makes me ponder my choices, it keeps me on my toes. Sometimes it makes me really organised, organised enough to make an appointment with the dentist and keep it. Daniel and I had been talking about the dentist with Che quite regularly - how important it is to get check-ups to ensure your teeth stay strong and healthy. His one question was: "After we go to the dentist, can we get ice-cream?" Our response: "Ice-cream goes against everything the dentist stands for."
I was a little apprehensive and envisioned a writhing, unhappy three-year-old clenching his teeth together. The book in the reception area helped - the story of a young boy who opens his mouth wide so the dentist can count all his teeth! As soon as Che hopped on that mechanical chair his mouth was open - he was eager and waiting. I was pleasantly in awe. He has twenty teeth, thinks the cleaning paste is 'yucky' and only had trouble keeping his mouth open when he was giggling so hard the dentist has to take the utensils out of his mouth.
I squeezed a check-up in straight after - still no fillings! But...I was asked, politely, if I tend to clench my teeth sometimes. "It's just that there's a bit of wear on the front teeth," she explained to me. I was lying there, thinking about all those times where as a mum I get so frustrated that I clench - and hard. "Yes," I admitted. "I do...and how bad is that - for my teeth and my parenting." Oh motherguilt, you're still there, even after the dentist.
Labels: ché , motherhood , parenting
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
I've decided to stop teaching my Sunday morning hatha class because, well, sometimes "I" need to be priority. I may be old fashioned in thinking that Sunday is rest day, but so be it. Sundays are now reserved for us and all the things we want to do. Like pancakes with lots of lemon and sugar. Late morning reading sessions in front of the heater. Or exploring the parts of this area that we hardly ever venture to. Like Bouddi National Park, a pretty spectacular part of this region.
Love can stop your fear
Fear can stop you loving
But it's not always that clear" from "Fear and Love"
Labels: parenting , we live near the beach
Thursday, July 01, 2010
I like the process of looking over the day through photographs. Of seeing things so easily missed by the busy wandering eyes of a muma. Another day and another challenging toddler. But just now looking over these glimpses of the last few days I realise that he needs space. He's happiest with his tiny happy foraging bag and the wide berth of the beach. Today I watched as he climbed over all the rocks with the agility and, might I say grace, of a boy. I didn't have to remind him to 'watch out for...' instead I kept my mouth shut and just observed. The beauty of the observer. He found a 'road of shells' and chased the seagulls and nattered to himself about his findings. He spent his time in his world without the need for me to be right there beside him.
Labels: che , parenting , we live near the beach
Sunday, May 02, 2010
Ever since Anna attended one of my birth workshops with her hubbie and full-belly in tow, we have enjoyed a constant conversation over email. Last week I sent her a quick reply and two of the four sentences went like this:
It is human nature to always look forward; to plan, prepare, think about tomorrow. And yet the essence of yoga is to be in the present - right here, in the now. Yesterday in my pre-natal class there was one girl so close to birthing her baby and I could tell how challenged she was by time. "I'm counting down the days," she said. But she is only 38 weeks and perhaps, if her baby decides, she could be pregnant for another month. I reminded her of how precious it is to be one with her baby because once the cord is cut, the oness and wholeness is gone. I reminded her to find peace in her body, breath and baby. To find joy in the present. In today.
I have been getting quite stressed and upset by Ché's tantrums and determination and yet I think it's him just being overwhelmed by his world. I have noticed whenever we walk somewhere that I am thinking about the destination and he is consumed by the cracks in the pavement, the trail of ants in his wake, the pebbles under the tree. His world is the minutiae even though he calls himself a 'big boy'. I have to remember that.
I love this quote:
Thursday, August 20, 2009
i have been thinking about weaning ché for a while now. but as has been my experience of mothering i've always taken a long while to move onto the next stage. in retrospect each and every one of those stages has been a smooth transition. even his birth (i'm just realising while writing this that his 11 days overdue was probably just me taking my time to move into transition. ahhh, it was me holding on. ahhh, a revelation. nice). breastfeeding ché has been a wonderful experience and daniel and i have been really lucky to co-sleep with him too. but co-sleeping often means he was feeding up to four times a night. over the last few weeks i realised that in order to be an energetic, healthy and fun muma i needed to stop feeding him. I need some energy for me. he's almost two and we've been telling him for a while now that when he blows out his candles, no more milky.
and so last week i decided it was time. no more milky. the milky's gone. and over three days ché, being the adaptable little creature he is, left milky behind and embraced lullabies and bedtime stories. i thought it was going to be really hard. but it was easy. i felt like i had all the patience and the calm in the world, to stay close to him, to read and sing until he was lulled to sleep. it worked.
i'm not sad. because i really believe it was the right time for us. i feel quite free actually. and ché's face has changed. his vocabulary has expanded. he's almost two and turning quite quickly into a little boy. He's confident and gentle and sweet. and yes there have been times when I've been frustrated by the demands of feeding a little one who would be happy to be on there for an hour at a time. he understood what i was telling him and i know this because he pointed to my breasts a few days ago and said: "all gone muma, all gone" and then he trotted off to play in the garden. i feel so nourished by the fact that it was the right time and that it was smooth.
i'm off to see my naturopath next week and refuel my body with goodness. and i'm going to treat myself to a few new bras of the non-maternity kind.
funnily enough, it hasn't taken me long to feel a little clucky again.
this ad makes me smile, every time. to give the breast is to give life
Friday, May 15, 2009
The focus for my pre-natal classes at the moment is asteya or letting go of greed. Being in the here, the now, not wishing or grasping for the journey to end. Enjoying the present moment...just being. I'm re-reading Buddhism for Mothers at the moment and it is so much more relevant now that Che is a little more grown. I'm nodding my head to almost every sentence and finding comfort in the suggestions for thought and practice. Especially mindfulness.
I especially like the suggestion to tell yourself what your doing throughout your day. The affirmation really has the power to almost throw you into the present. Yesterday I began talking to myself. In the best possible way. At the close of the day I felt nourished. And nurtured.
I taught a yoga class, cooked a chicken casserole, swept the balcony, tended to my herbs, read with Ché, made the beds...and spent two hours in a day spa. It surprised me that even as I was being wrapped in amazonian nut mud I still had to tell myself to relax. "I am relaxing."
It's quite liberating to be in the moment, constantly expanding your awareness of where you are and what you're doing. To actually be mothering instead of chasing time, children and chores.
I am writing
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
In the growing, birthing and raising of our children we are challenged and we surrender.
We devote ourselves to these little beings that came from within us.
In this devotion we find meaning. And from meaning we find power.
The deep, everlasting power of a mother. Revealing her instinctual desires and her own truth.
Labels: natural birth , parenting , self , yoga
Sunday, February 15, 2009
I always tell my pre-natal students that pregnancy and motherhood is about surrender. You surrender when you conceive, you surrender to the journey of pregnancy and when your baby is ready to be born you 'let go' to birth.
Motherhood is about letting go too. It's about holding back sometimes to allow your little one to explore. Watching with eyes half-closed to see if the exploring will end in triumph or a fall. Last week I learned the subtle art of standing back and observing as Che crawled around the garage while D worked on the bike.
And I realised that a camera can be so wonderful a shield. Through the lens I saw screwdrivers, sharp metal objects, danger and blood. In photos I captured exploration, concentration, fine motor skills, delight, wonder, deep thought and connection. I let go (for a few small moments) of my maternal and instinctual need to constantly protect and I watched Che learn. It's just the beginning of his adventure. And mine.
Labels: adventures , i like taking photos , parenting , play
Sunday, February 01, 2009
And honesty is a good thing, right? I received an email from a New Yorker today - a mum, yoga teacher and photographer. She reads this space often and asked me why I never really talk about the tribulations of motherhood. Is everything really so sunny in my part of the world?
Yes, sometimes it is. But sometimes it's damn hard too. Sometimes I'm completely overwhelmed by the sheer amount of washing, cleaning, cooking and chores that need to be done. Sometimes I just can't believe how quickly I turned from a single, carefree girl to a fiancee, muma, housewife, domestic goddess. Ha! It all happened really fast and I still feel like I'm catching up. I'm still learning. I'm getting into the habit of doing washing everyday to ensure it doesn't pile up around me. I'm learning how to run a house, to be a partner, and a mother, and to be myself too.
The word "reality" gets thrown around quite a bit here, in our house. Because I'm a dreamer and an idealist, my sense of reality is slightly skewed. D would argue that my reality doesn't exist. My world is a whimsical one - I like to be surrounded by beauty. But even I can accept that that isn't always possible. I still struggle with the age-old question that every mother asks herself...who am I? That little passport photo of me lives in Daniel's wallet. It was taken the first week we met. I was really young, I had graduated from uni, had started studying yoga, I had a fabulous wardrobe, beautiful friends...I lived the life of a carefree 22-year-old. I did ask for someone like D to come into my life and then he turned up and all of a sudden in an utter whirlwind of heady love I moved out of home, fell pregnant, got engaged, gave birth, fell into the beautiful haze of new motherhood. And when Che was about four months old I felt my feet on the ground. And I wondered who I was. Where did my body go? Where did my words go? What am I supposed to do now?
I still wonder how a day can go by so fast, how it can get to 10pm and I haven't read a page of a book. I always think about what I will be when I grow up.
I write here because it is an instant publication. Snippets of my little family to share with relatives and friends. Little did I know that I would connect with women across oceans and create a space to share, inspire and sometimes console. And so it is that this is the world we live in. A rather open one I think.
I could use this space to whinge, moan, complain about how tired I am, how I want just a little more time for me, but I'll leave all that to share with Daniel. Thanks baby. I doubt anyone would read this if I brought all my anguish here.
I wouldn't have all the happiness and joy without the sorrow and the hard work. Without the negatives there are no positives. There is balance in everything. Sure I feel sad that I'm not longer that girl in the photo but I made a child. A beautiful baby boy. And rather than carrying along with the slog of the every day I have chosen to wrap my arms tight around this new role and embrace everything it creates. The contagious giggles and the sleepless nights.
I still struggle with the little things too. I aim to simplify but I can't ignore my desire (translation - obsession) to have a wardrobe full of beautiful clothes. I find joy in a photo, a cup of tea, a sweet yoga practice...and Prada heels that would be oh so perfect for our wedding day. Perhaps it's the contradictions I find hardest to deal with.
Like everyone I long to just be. And one day, perhaps, I'll get there. But for now I write about my life, I dream of a cottage with a wrap-around verandah, I plan to finish a novel, teach more classes, have more babies.
And today I hope to pick up the toys, cook dinner, fold the washing, eat more watermelon, read Che a story, have another cup of tea and give D a kiss. And to be completely honest, I can't complain about that.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Yep, Che is speaking three-syllable words. And his Dada's pride is palpable. Why? Because after saying the usual Muma, Dada, bubba, hello, no...he can say motorbike (mo-ha-ka). I wouldn't be exaggerating if I said it was bordering on obsession. I have to steer clear of bikes in the park or near the beach because regardless of the fact that he's still unsteady on his feet, my little one will try to climb up and go for a ride. Brrroooommmm, brrrooommmm. Oh yeah, that's right, I birthed a boy. A male. Who is already fascinated by wheels, handlebars and helmets - beep beep!
Since the day this 1978 Yamaha SR500 made its way into our garage my baby has turned into a bike-loving kid with passion and drive (pun completely intended).
I've stocked up on band-aids. And arnica. And I'm practicing my speech that I will stand-by regardless of the whinging: "You can get a motorbike when you're 21...and no sooner."
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
I don't think I'm alone when I say that I'm a little weary at the moment. Perhaps my reason is a little different - I'm not tired because of festivities or turkey-needs-to-be-cooked-stress. You see, my little chicken is turning out to be one of those lively spirits. Those children who people refer to as 'balls of energy'. He's a climber.
An explorer and a giggler with the stubbornness of his Dada and the determination of yours truly. Me oh my it is exhausting. He's a grazer too - that's right, he'll eat all day. Some bread, some cheese, some peaches and then some more please. Which means I'm preparing/cooking/serving food for most of the day. Don't get me wrong, I love feeding him with fresh food goodness but it is a bit of a shock to the system. He's grounding me, pulling me down from that cloud I like to float on. This is such uncommon ground for me and I'm taking a while to adjust. I'm being challenged but I'm learning.
He's a screamer, a squealer, a chatter and a giggler. Every sentence is a statement - he never questions. For good reason I am slightly concerned about future tantrums. Goodness gracious me. But let's not get ahead of ourselves.
Of course there is always balance in our day. However hard it is I always seem to get one of those cuddles with a pat on the back that make everything seem easy peasy. Thank goodness for the hugs, the open-mouth slobbery kisses and the cheekiness. I just have to get better at keeping a straight face when I'm trying to explain that what he is doing isn't nice. I always laugh in the most inappropriate circumstances.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Colour and light and all things bright. We are finally crawling out from under the clouds - feeling better and ready to play. And today I watched my little one 'play' for the first time. He took his Che Che (choo choo) train and pushed it around the floor as he crawled. Around the basket and the table. Around and about. It was beautiful to watch. I could tell that he was actually thinking about what he was doing, he planned a little route and off he went. Che and his train.
My house smells of lavender, ylang ylang and patchouli - the 'hippie chic blend' made by a local scent and soap maker. Since we found our rhythm I have enjoyed playing house so much more. It's cleaner and more organised than it has been in months and I feel more inspired in my own space. Inspired to write, make, create and yes, play. It's a good feeling.
Che and I have found our little groove and we're so happy. I'm a better Muma because of it. I'm calmer and more engaged and I can easily say that I am more certain and more passionate about my role as parent - about the choices Daniel and I are making. After teaching a pre-natal yoga class last week a few of my students were talking about leaving work and the significant changes that would make to their family income. I suprised myself with what I said to them because it was the first time I had actually considered it myself. "Your life become simpler when you become a parent. You spend more time at home, you spend more time together. Your life-style doesn't cost as much."
Because...you clean, you feed, you bake, you wash, you play, you read, you cuddle - together.
After a phone call with a dear friend today I realised how important it is to be surrounded by like-minded parents. It's so good to know that Che's friends are being raised by parents as passionate as Daniel and I. We share the same values and beliefs, we're choosing an 'alternative' form of education and we're trusting in our natural instincts. I feel supported and understood in my parenting journey...it's so nice.
Enjoy the bright light of an approaching Summer ... or the cosy dim haze of a Winter just around the corner. Wherever you are I hope you find your seasonal rhythm.
Labels: corners of my home , daily rhythm , friends , handmade , parenting
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
I've been away. Not from home, but from this blog. A little break, a little breather. It was time to find some rhythm and now we're sailing rather smoothly.
I actually started by changing a few things about my evening. Before Che goes to bed we clean up his toys together. And before I go to bed I make sure the kitchen is spotless. As far as I'm concerned there's nothing worse than waking up to dirty dishes - a clean kitchen is a fresh start. Perhaps I really am heading towards domestic bliss?
On the food front there was one habit I had to kill. I'll admit that I'm slightly addicted to chocolate and if there's a block sitting next to my cup of tea, I'll get through it pretty easily. Although the taste was enjoyable (the guilt not so nice) I was waking up with a sugar hangover. True. Sleepy, lethargic, cranky - not the kind of Muma that I need to be. And so I've taken on the French approach - one square of quality chocolate a day (sometimes two) with my tea and I'm waking up much happier. Good start to the day.
And Che and I? We pitter and we patter and I'm pretty happy with how our week has been. We visited the Steiner playgroup down the road and me oh my it is a delight. Unfortunately we can't go till Che is two. I was slightly disappointed but I see it as a opportunity to find our own way together - and without wishing the days away we have something very special to look forward to next Spring.
We've been row-row-row your boating, sandcastle making, reading and gardening.
Not long ago it became pretty evident that Che has rhythm - he shakes his bum in time to the music, he beats his body to song. He's fascinated by sounds - give him some windchimes and he's happy for hours. And so everyday we make music with his mellow sounding drum, our Tibetan singing bowl, a tambourine, maracas and our voices. I have no music talent whatsoever but I do enjoy watching him have fun. Sometimes we do a little Kirtan (devotional chanting to music), sometimes we just make a whole lot of noise. I just have to convince him that high-pitched squeals are not music to anyone's ears. Oh my goodness, how my child can squeal!
...and the winner is...Christie from Pigeon Pair. A gorgeous 70s clothkit is coming your way!
Labels: daily rhythm , parenting , parks , play , self , steiner , we make music
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Saturday night. Cooking dinner for friends. Wearing my Nana's apron for the first time. I found it in my Mum's wardrobe and brought it home with me. She was the best cook, my Nana. Perhaps that is why I always think of baking when I think of New Zealand. Shortbread, pikelets and ginger gems. Tins and tins full of buttery, sugary treats. I'm hoping her secrets are stitched into the apron. A nice thought.
I've been wanting to bake lately, so desperately feeling the urge to knead some dough and bake some sweet treats. But an inquisitive, curious 13-month-old and baking don't mix well. He's at one of those in-between stages and I am really aware of staying present with him and not wishing for him to reach that next phase. But in doing so I'm finding it a little difficult to create a rhythm in our days. Or to even notice a rhythm. And because I'm one of those ether types I tend to float along all day until I realise that it's almost dinnertime. I work better with routine, with rhythm.
So I'm going to spend the next few days creating some routine. Writing it down. Being a bit more aware, more grounded.
And just as I have been pondering all these thoughts I find out that my street is in fact blessed. There are four churches so you could call it holy land. But apart from that it seems to continually offer me things I ask for. Cherry blossoms - tick. Roadside blooms - tick. A footpath - tick. Village markets - tick.
A Steiner playgroup - tick. Today I discover that the house at the end of the street does in fact hold a Steiner playgroup every Friday morning. With bread baking, story time and lots of like-minded mumas and their little ones. Oh my goodness gracious me I am a lucky girl.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
One of those weeks.
fever
miserable
snotty nose
bad cough
unsettled sleep
bump on the head
not interested in food
diagnosed ear infection
unbalanced
fall down the stairs
bleeding mouth
cut lip
swollen lip
guilty muma
motherguilt
Did you know that the world average length for breastfeeding is four years? And the western average is three months. Are western mothers ignoring the basic and most vital part of mothering? How can a jar of formula be more appealing than a soft, cushiony breast?
"So many mothers think that because they loose the Dolly Pardon 'look' they think their milk has dried up. There is no truth in that at all - it's just a natural change the body undergoes as it adjusts to feeding. There is still plenty of milk in those breasts," says Liz.
I was thinking I would wean Che at around this time - 12 months. But no, that won't be happening. I will keep feeding him all that natural goodness until he decides that perhaps he'd rather have a babychinno. Marshmallow on the side.
I doubt Liz will read this but today I am grateful to her and her comforting, reassuring words. Because sometimes, as a mum, you just need a bit of reassurance. You need to be told you're doing the right thing.
run
and fall
and bump
and bruise.
At the moment
I can hear a giggle
and this makes me smile
so much.
I am so grateful
for a giggle
for happiness, healing and health.
Labels: 30 days of gratitude , health , parenting
Monday, September 22, 2008
Since becoming a mum I have truly learned the meaning of, among many things, patience. Of enjoying the present moment even if it is challenging.
One evening, a few months ago, when the calming/settling/putting to sleep phase was taking much longer than usual I became aware of patience in its fullness. I was hungry for dinner and desperate to sit down and talk with Daniel. I was tired, needy of a shower and a pillow. I didn't really want to be spending so much time getting Che into bed. As I sat in his room singing to him, chanting to him, rocking him, I became aware of the preciousness of the moment. How lucky I was to be spending these quiet moments before sleep with my little boy.
After he was asleep and dreaming I crept out of the room and went to Daniel. "You've really got to try and enjoy times like that don't you. Because if you become tense and annoyed by the situation you're just going to end up loathing it, eh?" He agreed.
In the last few weeks I've come to know what the morning looks like when you rise with the sun. When you awake to a little face pressed against yours or if you're unlucky, your hair being pulled. Every morning I have wished for just a bit more sleep. And I must admit, I'm not fantastic at getting up and dealing with the day when it is so so early. But this morning I got up and got going, pottering about as Che crawled along behind me.
And I was treated with beautiful spring light pouring in from outside. I placed Che on the chair and chatted to him as he sat there. I grabbed the camera and as I snapped away I managed to observe so many little nuances - little outbursts of happiness, moments of wonder, utter cheekiness. Perhaps it was my reward for being patient.
He's almost one. I just can't believe it.
Labels: 30 days of gratitude , parenting
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Yesterday was a firm reminder of how hot our summers can be. It was sticky and humid and very very warm for September. I spent the day resting and feeding Che - he had a fever and just wanted to lie next to (or on) me. It is just so awful to see him unwell - I get so worried. No doubt it is an experience that all mothers can relate to.
As we rested and talked quietly to each other I did manage to read a few chapters of Rachel Power's book The Divided Heart - Art and Motherhood.
Oh Ms Power, I am so grateful to her. I have never met her, only read her words, her very beautiful words. In this intelligent and insightful read, she has interviewed some of Australia's most respected artists, writers and actors - all of whom are women and mothers. And they speak about their art, their creative passions and their role as mother and how it is hard, so so hard to balance the two. They are all divided.
It got me thinking about the last year and the way motherhood has changed me as a writer. I have so much more fuel, so much more passion for words and yet so little time to sit and write. Yes, words get written between stirring soup and playing with Che but there are some times when I wish I could have a full day to work at my craft. And if I did? Perhaps the illusive mother guilt would arise and I would sit at my computer torn and questioning.
Can we have it all? As mothers and artists. In time, yes. When our children are little and needy? Maybe, maybe not. Alice Garner speaks candidly about her role as mother to Rachel Power. Her reality being that her life as actor had to take a back-step so she could raise her little one. She chose to do it that way because she couldn't bear to miss out on those precious first few years.
Becoming a mum has unleashed a raw energy within me that I didn't have before. My writing is easily more emotive and lyrical and yet, at the same time, I have managed to become more analytical. Wonderful advancements for a writer and so bitter-sweet because of my lack of 'writing' time. A short story, a news feature, a novel will get written. There are sentences on notepads, cooking books, in my phone. But for now I am a muma, proudly so and soaking up all the experiences so that one day I can reflect on them and compose, in words, a story.
The story has already begun, there are words on paper but I have accepted that it may be a piece years in the making. Dream big, write when I can and if the dishes and the washing have to pile-up - so be it.
An art piece & motherhood...two immensely creative journeys - it's finding the balance that's so hard.
Labels: 30 days of gratitude , parenting , writing
Thursday, September 11, 2008
I am proudly a stay-at-home-muma. And i am grateful...I feel lucky. So lucky that I can stay with my baby and watch him closely everyday. I feel blessed that I get to witness the intense concentration as he learns something new, his serious look as he is deep in thought and his wonderful expression of amazement when he sees something so new and exciting. Like a bird pecking at the ground or a helicopter flying overhead.
Labels: 30 days of gratitude , parenting
