Motherhood Truth #5: What's the worst that can happen??

When I was younger and approached with a difficult situation, my Dad would often say to me, "What's the worst that can happen?" I remember that, sometimes, the answer was actually quite bad... things like "No one will ever speak to me again" or "she'll hate me" or "I'll fail the assignment" etc. And then my Dad would say "And?" like it was no big deal. It made me realise the truth in the statement "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger". Sometimes, I never had to deal with my worst case scenarios. Sometimes, I did. And you know what? I'm still here. I have survived.

Even now, when I face difficult things, I will always say to myself, "what's the worst that can happen?" when I identify the awful possibilities, I shrug and know that I can deal with anything if I put my mind to it. 

In parenting, you get a huge amount of advice. Much of it comes from people who have done it before, and so it comes from, often, very useful experience. However, I have learnt that the only experience that really matters is your own. We have a situation with Isaac at the moment in that, often, he asks to come into bed with us in the early hours of the morning. Ieuan usually gets up to him and Isaac usually ends up in our bed. We try to keep him in his cot, but he just cannot get off to sleep and so either we sit in his room with him, or he comes into bed with us. Hmmm.... Being uncomfortable and awake, or cosy with cuddles. It seems like a no brainer to me. But all the advice you read says "whatever you do, do not let your child sleep in your bed!" This is what comes into my mind when I have that 3am emotional wrestle. To be honest, I kind of resent that the voice in my head at that time of the morning is some authoritative figure like Gina Ford or something, telling me what to do!! I actually don't always enjoy having Isaac in bed with us. He is a hair-player, and having his cute little fingies combing through my hair is, at times, intolerable. But most of the time, he comes into our bed and he'll roll over towards either Ieuan or I and flop his arm across our necks and play with our hair, or stroke our face, and almost always, he showers us with sleepy kisses.

 I feel so sad to think that if I approached parenting in a clinical kind of way, and outlawed our bedroom, I would never have moments like this to reflect on. And so it brings me to my favourite question. What's the worst that can happen??? So, he comes into our bed sometimes. So he enjoys cuddles with us. So Ieuan and I can only might only manage to hold hands under Isaac's legs. So my hair might get tangled. So Isaac might always enjoy cuddles in bed with us. 

AND?????

Will anyone die because of this? No. Will anyone be permanently adversely affected? No. 

So, in actual fact, the worst things that could happen aren't actually that bad. I think I'd much rather have a child that just couldn't resist cuddles with mummy and daddy, than a child who was a real pro at sleeping through the night, you know?

I once read an article about how to keep the spark alive in your marriage once children came along. It condemned people who allow children into their bedroom, let alone into their bed. It counselled that your bedroom should be a sacrosanct place. Children should never feel like they can spend time in there with you. It also mentioned that when you are alone with your spouse, you should make a concerted effort to not talk about your children with them. Taking the last example, let's apply the question. What's the worst that can happen?? So you hardly ever talk about anything but the children you both made and love to death. So your time together is spent saying "Isaac would love that!"

Do you know WHY that happens? It's because your child is a part of the both of you. 

Ieuan and I went away in the summer for the weekend, leaving Isaac with his Grandma and Grandad. It was the first time we'd done it and I had all sorts of inner crises going on. We had a wonderful weekend together. We talked about all sorts, but I don't mind telling you that the thing we talked about the most was Isaac. We love him more than I can tell you and we love talking about him. We love telling each other about things he's done that the other might not know about. We often spend a bit of time in the evenings after he's gone to bed, looking at the pictures we've taken that day, or pictures taken ages ago. We love talking about what we love about him, how we can help him, what we can do to encourage him etc. We. Love. Isaac. So, it seems only natural to me that talking about him alot will happen. What seems bizarre to me is the feeling that in doing so, we are somehow losing the spark in our marriage. I don't mind telling you that there is plenty of spark, and I honestly, truly believe it is because our love for our son, has increased our love for each other.

I was talking about this with a friend of mine recently and he said that a lot of the time, articles seem to suggest that somehow marriage and children are two separate things, and that in order to make a success of either, you should keep them separate, but, in my experience, that isn't the case, and when I imagine taking that stance, it makes me want to cry. 

So, my motherhood truth is this. If the worst that can happen is not that bad, then do not stress. There's lots of wonderful advice and counsel. Only listen to it if there's something in your life that you want to change. If it ain't broke, don't fix it. What ain't broke to you, may well seem dysfunctional to other people, and that's ok, but you aren't parenting 'other people'. You are the mother or father of your own child. If it works, and you don't mind it that way, then don't worry. I like asking myself "what's the worst that can happen?" It helps me to adjust my perspective. I'm grateful that I had parents who didn't mind me coming in for cuddles after a bad dream. I love the memories I have of piling into my parents bed with my siblings. 

When you look to outlaw a behaviour from your life, think about the ripple effects it might leave...you might find that you miss it, and the reason for might be that the worst that could happen really wasn't that bad after all.

Motherhood Truth #4 Victories and Heart Attacks

I recently had my sister come to stay to help me while I worked. One day, whilst I was in the office, she sent me a picture of my sleeping son, and told me how great it felt to have finally managed to get him off to sleep. She said, "Victory! It must feel great being a Mum". Also that week, Isaac showed Jess how he loves to stand with the french doors open to our Juliet balcony, lean against the glass and wave to people who pass by. If you catch the light right, it looks like there isn't glass there at all. And then your stomach lurches, and you have to remind yourself that he is actually very safe. I told Jess then that motherhood is made up of giant victories and little heart attacks.

Since then, I have had so many experiences which have confirmed that to me. It's so true!
SO many times, I feel like being a mother has taken years off my life, as I launch myself here there and everywhere to grab the scissors or break a fall, stop the door from slamming...... you parents out there will know how it is. You find yourself doing 24/7 risk assessments and yet, you still miss things. And there are times when your heart lurch, your stomach churns as you pre-empt or watch, helpless, as catastrophes unfold. Often, I've thought to myself "I'm not cut out for this mothering lark". But then, the heart attacks are somehow outweighed by the tiny but huge victories that motherhood brings.

Over the summer, we stayed with my parent's in law at the same time as my husband's brother and his family. Isaac and Megan got to spend lots of time with each other.

Megan was potty training at the time, and, when Megan did a wee in the potty for the first time at Grandma's house, we all jumped and gave Megan big hugs. Isaac joined in too and was very excited. That reminded me of just how unique and amazing the experience of parenthood is. It may seem strange to be so excited about someone doing a wee in a plastic bowl, yet, it really is SO exciting. It's beautiful to be part of a journey that brings you back to the amazing simplicities of life...how amazing it is to be in a position to teach your child, to nurture them and watch them grow. To us, who use a toilet several times a day, it's no big deal. But, to a child who never has, or who struggles to take that step from nappies to pants, potty to toilet, or cot to bed, or bottle to cup, or dummy to no dummy, or Mumma to Mummy, crawling to walking, smiling to laughing....
it is INCREDIBLE- absolutely incredible.

I feel so blessed to be on this journey with Isaac. He helps me to remember all the tiny things about life that are amazing and SHOULD be celebrated by excited jumps, shrieks and hugs of praise. I'm so grateful that my heart ache over Isaac slipping over on a magazine, slipping in the bath, or grabbing a pair of scissors is eclipsed by my pride as he says his prayers, or says sorry without being asked or, most especially when he comes over to me, pats my leg and says "Mum! Did it! Yay!" to remind me that he's done something that requires some enthusiastic clapping and cheering. I'm always surprised by how genuine my joy is when these things happen. I really, really feel it. It reminds me of just how exquisite motherhood is, and how much I absolutely love it.

My life is a squash and a squeeze!

On a recent trip back home to Mum and Dad's I unearthed all my favourite stories that I used to read to Sam and Caitlin. I piled them up next to Ieuan to read for Isaac. Most of them were by beloved Julia Donaldson. One of my most favourites is "A Squash and a Squeeze". I remember reading it with Caits and loving it so much because each time we read the words "squash" or "squeeze" it was an excuse to give her a big juicy snuggle. Anyway. We were reading this book the other day. For those of you who don't know the story, a little old woman lives in a little house, which, in her opinion, is way too small. She asks a wise old man to help her. Each time, he tells her to bring in her hen, her goat, her cow, her pig etc, she wonders what on earth is going on. With each animal, the space and comfort in her home decreases dramatically. Eventually, she reached breaking point and asks the wise old man for help again. He tells her to "Take them all out!" Which she does. She can't believe it! The space in her house is incredible now, she has SO much room. Of course, you and I know that the house didn't change at all, her appreciation of it, however, did.

These last few weeks, I have been so busy with work. SO busy. It's been interesting and satisfying, and it's always a blessing to earn extra money, but it has been so busy. Before I had this working stint, I wondered how I would fit it all in. Isaac keeps me so busy. I spent the precious hour he sleeps during the day, doing work or washing, etc, and with so much extra to work, I had no idea how I would find the time to do what I needed to when the space in my house, as it were, wasn't going to change. But, with the help of my family, and some careful planning, I managed it.

Today was the first day I didn't have to do work, and, let me tell you, my house felt absolutely palatial. I was able to take my time getting Isaac off for his nap. I relished the opportunity to lie down with him and read my book, as he drifted off to sleep next to me. I didn't have to dash from his side to start work. I don't have to sacrifice an evening with Ieuan tonight! It feels amazing. I was only super busy for a couple of weeks, yet I feel as though it lasted forever. This little experience has shown me how wonderful the crazy busy times are, and how they help to put the rest of our lives into perspective. Going through periods of busyness, sadness, trials etc, whilst they can be difficult and feel so permanent at the time, have the propensity to transform one's life- a normal, regular life- into something wonderful, just by providing a contrast, or an opposition to what you are used to.

So, after throwing out my cow, pig and goat, I can well and truly relax for a while and enjoy the fact that my life is no longer a squash and a squeeze!

Motherhood Truth #3- Be the Change

I have recently learned so much on my quest to be the best mother I can be. 

This is a picture of me and Daddy. This picture came to mind when I was pondering my motherhood truth 'Be the Change'. 

As a teenager, if something bothered me, my Dad would tell me to get off my backside and do something about it....in as many words. He always encourages me get up and go, even on days where my get-up-and-go well and truly got-up-and-left. Dad's no-nonsense attitude has transformed my life and become so much part of who I am that I often wonder how I would have developed without his tutelage. As such, I now think this way for myself, even if, often, it comes in the guise of my Daddy's voice in my mind. 

It is no great secret that motherhood can be hard. Sometimes, I feel tears prick my eyes and I feel that overwhelming desire to be the martyr of my own cause. I feel, innate in my character, is a desire to compete in the emotional athletic events of whose life is hardest, who has done more, worked harder, is most tired...yaddah yaddah yaddah. This may seem unlike me (I hope it does). The reason for that is simple. I hate that about myself, so I do all I can to NOT be that person. Some days, it never leaves the confines of my head, but occasionally, Ieuan will say to me "Darling, no one of us is more tired than the other. It's not a competition." And I realise that my thoughts slipped out through my mouth. Pesky critters. 

Anyway. On my constant quest of self improvement, I have come to truly treasure the concept that if you want to see change, you need to be that change. If you are dissatisfied, BE satisfied. So much of life is made up of simple choices that we choose to complicate...

Another lesson from Dad that illustrates this is as follows.... I remember, as a child, occasions where I wasn't as obedient as I should have been. In efforts to explain why I hadn't yet roused myself to the task I had been called to, my Dad would often tell me he wasn't interested in my excuses. I would often say "I'm sorry I didn't do what you said BUT...." and Dad would say to me "If you're really sorry, you wouldn't follow it with IF or BUT." At the time, I thought my reasons would provide me with mitigating circumstances, but more often than not, they genuinely didn't take away from the fact that I had actually been disobedient. So it is with life. The older I get, the more I am seeing how true that is. SO often, the circumstances of our lives are peppered with Ifs and Buts, as we feebly try to excuse why are lives are not exactly as we would have them be. Another thing I have learnt as I have grown is how much power I have to make my life amazing- to make it exquisite. 

Zooming back in now, I'd like to revisit motherhood, and my experience of it. Whilst I can make my life amazing, that does not change that there are moments of every day which are not amazing. The other night, I learnt from Isaac that kisses really do make everything a whole lot better. I was looking forward to an evening with Ieuan, some light reading etc. I had well and truly tired Isaac out and I was certain he would go to sleep quickly. He did not. Everytime he stood up and grumbled at me, I felt more frustration, as he seemed more awake than ever.
"I'm missing dinner". I thought. I could hear everyone laughing and eating and I dipped my toe into the mire of self pity as I reflected upon how many meal times I had missed that week. My toe acclimatised quite quickly, so my whole foot went in. "Goodness....I've got so much work to do this evening too. Bye-bye ME time."

Isaac continued to stand up and grumble. Something made me pull my foot out, shake it off, and listen. Clearly Isaac wanted something. Swallowing the huff that was rising from my lungs, and putting a smile on my face (another Dad thing) I went to him to find out what he wanted. 

He pointed to his chin and said "A Kiss". 

Throughout that night, he slept fitfully, and each time he grumbled, he would be pointing to his chin and asking for another kiss.

I don't know what his exact discomfort was, but knowing that he felt kisses would make it better warmed my heart and dried up that mire of self pity. I realised just how important it is to be responsible for quashing our own negativity, and to be responsible for our own happiness. Isaac knew what he needed to be happy. I, on the other hand, almost missed a precious opportunity to indulge in the exquisiteness of motherhood- something that makes me happy. Had I not stopped moping around, had I not literally gotten off of my backside, I would have completely missed it. And that makes me wonder...what else do I miss by wallowing in self pity? What moments pass me by when I buy into this desire to be a victim of my circumstances? 

Would I miss out on my child? On my husband? I know a desire to compete with each other...being intent on being seen to others as self-sacrificing, indulging constantly in negativity and busyness, has the potential to drive a real wedge between you and those you love most. During Family Home Evening the other night, my mother in law taught a lesson based on the premise of "Complete rather than Compete". If we focused more on completing others, especially our significant others...if we focused on their needs, and offered more kisses, more time, more understanding of THEIR sacrifices and THEIR hardships, I can guarantee that we'd have little to no time to dwell upon our own. I'm looking forward to being a better mother and wife. 

And I'm really looking forward to more kisses. 

Motherhood Truth #2- "But I'll miss him too."

A couple of months back, I started writing about my raw truths of motherhood, in an attempt to tell the truth about how wonderful motherhood really is, and to shed light on some songs that society isn't really singing out right now (read the post here- http://guytribe.blogspot.co.uk/2015/05/motherhood-truth.html )

My first motherhood truth was "It is exquisite".
#2 is this- Dads are exquisite too.

I feel like now would be a great time to write this post, having just enjoyed father's day and all, but also, in the world, there are lots of attitudes that are quite damaging to men and to the role of fathers and I want to stand on my little rooftop and shout to the world that DAD'S ARE NEEDED. THEY ARE IMPORTANT. THEY ARE ESSENTIAL.

And proudly, I say, I couldn't do what I do without my husband by my side. Of course, it goes without saying that I couldn't be the mother of my own child without my husband, but I also couldn't do any of the little things without Ieuan.

I'm stepping off the rooftop now, and onto the soapbox, so bear with me. I really, really resent it when women get on THEIR soapboxes and tell ME how I ought to be feeling as a woman in today's society. I am constantly reading material encouraging women to aspire to be more than just housewives and mothers. They say that we should compete with men. We don't need them. REAL women don't need men. We are strong enough without them. We can't allow them to be better than us in society. We shouldn't allow them to be more successful than us. One father's Day card that I read said "Husband....Today is your day to put your feet up and do nothing.....just like normal!"
When will it end? A beautiful quote I heard recently goes like this "You lift me, and I'll lift thee and we'll ascend together". THAT is what the world ought to be shouting.

Let me share a childbirth insight with you. After having Isaac, after he was resuscitated and worked on for 30 mins, after we held him for the first time, after he fed from me for 40 minutes, the midwife ran a bath for me. I sat in that bath, with a smaller stomach, wounds and punctures all over the place and the feeling that my insides were about to fall out. But. I have just given birth. I had just fed my baby. I had done it all with my husband by my side. As I bathed, Ieuan dressed Isaac.

  He put on the first tiny nappy, the first tiny vest, the first tiny babygrow, and all while I was soaking in the most blissful bath of my entire life- full of bubbles and euphoric satisfaction. While I was in there, I felt like a real woman. I had embraced what my body was meant/able to do- express love, create and deliver life and then sustain that life. And I felt like a real woman because my soul was getting ready to do what it was meant to do...raise and nurture that life with my husband by my side. Sadly, everything I am saying is pretty controversial at the moment, but I share it because these experiences have formed an essential part of the realisation of my identity; both as a woman and as the daughter of God that I know I am, and I know that this is how God designed it to be.


Now I say all of this knowing that not everyone enjoys the same blessings as I do. I have many friends who cannot have children of their own, but who bravely and resolutely embrace and enhance their gorgeous femininity in other ways and pour their efforts into being the best wife they can be, so that, if and when then time does come, they will be the best parents imaginable.
I also know something of marriages not working out. Happily, not through my own experience of marriage. I know that people don't always enjoy the ideal. But, if I may say, I have had a life peppered with not-ideals and I've learnt so much and enjoyed so many blessings from those experiences, and from having more parents than most to bless my life in their own ways. So, whilst I recognise that my experience of marriage and motherhood is not everyone's, I also recognise that blessings come in unexpected ways, and through great difficulties and trials of patience, we are given the most incredible experiences.

Having said all of that, I would now like to talk about why my Motherhood Raw Truth #2 is "Dad's are exquisite too".


Those of you who know me well, and certainly, those who knew me while I was dating, will know that I need little, or no encouragement at all to talk about Ieuan. I LOVE talking about him. I've known him for a long while now and I've loved him for almost as long, but I'm getting to know a new side to him now. The Daddy side. And with that, has come a real appreciation for just how much I need him.... I mean, I need him as my husband, and as my best friend... but I need him as Isaac's Daddy.

When I married this amazing man, I thought I couldn't possibly love him any more.

I really did. But then I had Isaac. I love Ieuan even more when I look at my little boy. And that love doubles when I see them both together. Really, motherhood is a long journey of loving and learning to love in different ways, and learning how to not burst when that love swells (another raw, exquisite truth right there). I'm still working on that last one.
I can't imagine raising Isaac without Ieuan. I can't imagine having had Ieuan in our lives and then losing him. The reason I find it so hard to imagine is not just because of the love I feel for him and my personal dependence on his love, but it's because of the love I know Isaac has for him and because I see fatherhood as completely essential.

As I have touched on, not every family is made up of the traditional, nuclear family. My own upbringing was a little interesting in that sense, but it's made me the person I am today and I have 4 parents whom I love dearly. My own father followed his own path when I was a toddler, a little older than Isaac is. For 4 years, I didn't have a father in my home. I don't remember much about my feelings during that time, but I do remember feeling very sensitive to my mother's needs. I wanted to help her as much as I could and I never wanted to say or do anything that would make her life harder. My mum remarried when I was 7 and from that point to this, I have enjoyed having a wonderful second Dad in my life. As much as I love my Father, and I really do, it is because of Daddy that I am who I am. I don't think I would be half the person I am without the JOINT parenting of my Dad and my Mum. Together, They created the right environment for learning, growing, loving, etc.  I think it would be easy to be anti-dad. and anti-man, having seen how admirably my mother did while she was on her own. But, having experienced both sides of things, I can tell you, Dad's are essential, and I know my Mum would say the same. I am grateful to be living in a traditional family set up right now. I'm grateful to be married and to have a partner in parenting.

The title for this post is inspired by a conversation Ieuan and I had regarding our summer plans. Ieuan works away in the summer and I go with him but always come back at various points. I am getting ready to spend a week back in Trowbridge to work, and as Ieuan and I were discussing plans, he said, "What will happen with Isaac during that week? Will you take him?"
"Of course I will! I'd miss him if not."
"......But I'll miss him too".

I realised in that moment that nothing in the world gave me any right to feel that I had a greater claim over Isaac. I assumed responsibility of Isaac because I am his Mumma, but Ieuan had been hoping for a look in because he is his Daddy. I was so incredibly touched by Ieuan's response and, more than ever, I realised that Parenting is an equal thing. If women want equality, look no further than a loving marriage with a man who loves being a Dad.

It's not just as a Daddy that Ieuan has supported me and helped me. Whilst I was taking some horrible medicine the other day, I said:
"Honey, please don't make me finish this!"
He said:  "You must finish it, Darling. Take it like a woman! Why isn't that a phrase? Women are brave too. Take it like the great women of history! Take it like Amelia Earhart! Take it like Florence Nightingale! Take it like Emmeline Pankhurst....you can do it, Darling. Take it like a Woman!"

I loved that! The last 8 years that I have known Ieuan, he has empowered me, encouraged me, supported me, consoled me, LOVED me. 

 And I know he will do so forever until I have become the very best version of myself. People tell you that having children puts strain on your marriage. "Sleep while you can!" they cry! "Your marriage will never be the same once kids come along", the experienced mothers say to you, with a wink. Boy were they right! Nothing had prepared me for just how much my marriage would change. I had no idea how infrequently we would get to watch movies- our evenings would be filled with gazing at our precious little creation. No one mentioned to me how much it would mean when your husband gets up to do the night duty, or does the washing up, or brings you a Kinder Bueno home, or flowers, or spontaneous cuddles in the kitchen....no one prepared me for the selfless acts of kindness, or the shared tender moments of learning that you go through as a couple as you prepare to look after a new, tiny life.  I had no idea I would love my husband so much more. No one told me how much more handsome Ieuan would be to me, or how much further I would fall in love with him, or how much more excited I would be for our future. I thought I wanted children with Ieuan when we got married. And then we had one. And now, I can't wait for the next, and the next, and the next. "Just wait til you have 2, or 3, or 4....." I can hear their voices on the wind. But I WILL wait until I have 2, and I will look forward to writing again about how much my capacity to love has increased ten fold, yet again, only this time, I won't be so surprised.  

So. In short, the world needs to recognise the value of Daddies, and stop undermining it and allowing it to be driven by the winds and whims of society.
Dads. Are. Exquisite. They are so important. I don't feel weaker as a woman for my reliance on Ieuan as a man. There is NOTHING. NOTHING that equally replaces a Mummy and a Daddy in a child's life. I couldn't be an effective Mummy to Isaac if I didn't have Ieuan being an awesome Dad by my side. Dads often have a bad rep and what the world doesn't tell you, is how amazing they can really be. So. Hug your Dads if you can, or ponder a favourite memory. Then, hug your husbands tight and tell them how much you love and appreciate them for partner and father they are.

Isaac tells Ieuan all the time how much he loves him. Often by a gorgeous little chest rub while they read their favourite story at bed time. I feel more blessed than I can say to have these two in my life.

As always, no days are perfect, (some days, it's all I can do to get dressed) but I think Ieuan IS perfect and so is Isaac and I know that by loving them with all I have and appreciating them, every day will have moments of exquisite beauty in them.

 In the words of Eponine and Fantine "To love another person is to see the face of God".

Motherhood- The Truth.

When it comes to commentaries on motherhood through social media, we often hear about how important it is to be honest so that people don't get a rose-tinted impression of your life and feel that theirs is inadequate. My Auntie recently wrote a blog post about how she suffered with post-natal depression with her first child, and how amazing things are now with both of her boys. I admire her so much for her courage in addressing something that not many people talk about. Things like that give people confidence to address the challenges in their own life. I also admire her for sharing so much of the good stuff. I feel sometimes that we are encouraged to share the bad because it makes people feel better. But that too can shed an inaccurate light on our lives. We share the negative to bond with others- to make comrades through tribulations. I love that we can do that, and I love the support that that brings. But I want more comrades through 'the exquisite'. I want to bond with people because their POSITIVE experiences of motherhood are similar to mine. I want them to feel a surge of courage when they read that yet another mother has had a fabulous day. Sure, not EVERY day is fabulous for everyone, and not every day has to be. But I believe that there are fabulous moments in EVERY day. We should share those too.

After I had Isaac, my sister, who was serving as a missionary for our church in Utah at the time, told me that she thought I was "Exquisite". I could not have felt less exquisite. I was sore. My tummy was saggy, wrinkled, scarred from months of anti-coagulant injections and felt so bruised from where people had been pounding on it to get Isaac out. I could barely sit down. I could barely walk. I could barely make it to the loo to spend a penny. I was so far from exquisite, I couldn't even see it in my rear view mirror.

But I knew she meant it.

I knew she saw the exquisite in me- somewhere amidst my haggard exterior. So I looked for it too. And found it. And, since then, I have tried to use that exact word to lift others the way it lifted and inspired me. Jessica's ability to see the exquisite through my overwhelmed, battered body inspired me to find the exquisite everywhere.

Motherhood is full of all sorts of things. Ups, downs, highs, lows, peaks troughs....
So I want to share with you some truths that I have found in motherhood. Some real, raw, unfiltered exquisite.

My son is 15 1/2 months old. This has been my favourite stage to date, just like the stage before this and the one before that! But honestly, within the last week or so, I have been amazed by how much I am loving being his mummy. I'm not exaggerating when I tell you that I tell Isaac how much I love him at least every 15 minutes. I can't get enough of him. And the best part is? I can tell he understands.

During my baby blues period in the first week after I had Isaac, one of the crazy things that would make me weep was the thought that I loved him so much but he would probably never understand...and he'd one day become a teenager...and he may say some hurtful things...or be rude....or hate me...and he would never be able to appreciate the love I have for him...and me loving him so much would just leave me open to so, so much pain. That is exactly what went through my head every day for about 2 weeks. I shared this with my friend Bex once, when Isaac was about 6 months old. She told me that she felt quite differently...that children had a way of knowing how you feel about them and how much you love them. I was sceptical...until this week.

This week, I have made a concerted effort to be on the floor with Isaac playing with him. I have been so surprised at the things I have learnt. He can get pretty worked up about things....he's very determined and if he wants the door open so he can wave to people, you will know about it until the door is opened. He's working on his inner patience. Anyway, I have noticed that whenever we have the TV, youtube, music, anything digital one, he is more prone to getting agitated. When it's just us with no other noise or distractions around he simply doesn't.
And there's more.
When there aren't any other distractions, I feel that we connect on a deep emotional level. Isaac is an exceptionally affectionate child. I've never seen his equal. Despite this, he is very busy and sometimes, because of all the things he has to do, you don't always get tender moments of mutual communication. This week, since I've started my "on the floor" experiment, he has carried on his usual list of to-dos. Empty books, pull all DVDs out, carry a ball from the sofa to the door, wave to some friends, bang the ball on the window, play the piano, read a book.....  The one difference is that instead of moaning at me to do things/fetch things for him, he'll come over to me, usually from behind as he's on his way to one of his important jobs, and he'll stretch his little arms around my back, lay his head on me, rub my arms and say "Mmumma." and then give my back a kiss. That one word, said in that context with the extra "M" at the beginning says one very important thing to me.
It says "Mumma, I love you just as much as you love me. Loads."
Each time he does it, I tell him how much I love him and I say a little prayer to thank God for him too. #blessed has never been more appropriate. I also feel very, very humbled that someone as imperfect as me would be allowed to feel so much love from someone as perfect as him.

He's also started coming and sitting on my lap for about a second, and then going off on his rounds. He always says my name when he does this too. I can tell, from his tender actions that he loves me being with him on the floor. He loves having me on the same level as him, so he can come over and cuddle me, or sit on my lap. He doesn't have to raise his voice from "way down there" to get my attention, he can just say my name gently.

The most important thing I have learned is that those exquisite moments happen every single day. The ones I have just written about happen several times a day. They never get old, or boring. I never get used to them. But they also happen on days when he doesn't eat well or he doesn't sleep well, or he pulls clothes off of the hangers in shops, or he screams because he can't play with the card machine...they happen amidst the difficult times. And I am left feeling just as amazing after one of those cuddles on a difficult day, as much as I would do on a fabulous day. Maybe even more so.

I could talk about Isaac all year. Ieuan and I are his biggest fans. I'm so thankful for all he teaches me about what is most important. I'm grateful for how he shows he loves to cuddle. I'm also grateful that he cuddles to show how much he loves. Motherhood raw truth #1.

It. Is. Exquisite.

The Big 1.

This post is a little late, but I'm glad to be finally updating the world on my proudest achievement: Isaac Michael Guy.

(This is going to be long, just so you know!)

On February 1st 2015, our little ray of sunshine turned 1 year old.

On Isaac's birthday, his bestest little friend and cousin, Alfred came to visit. We enjoyed a nippy trip to the park (where they enjoyed little competition for the swings!) and some fun playing at home. We had some other family visit us and we played pass the parcel and had some tasty food! It was a lovely day.

I love Isaac's birthday because it is the day before my own. My 23rd birthday was the most sore, exhausted and uncomfortable birthday imaginable but...I was holding my own little one, and nothing is sweeter than that feeling, so every year on his birthday and mine, I will get to relive those special feelings and memories!

Because I am so late with this, Isaac is now 14 months old, so this will just be a little all round update about him and the things he's been doing at "around" the age of 1.

As Isaac grows, we see his personality shining through more and more. He is one of the sweetest characters I know. He is exceptionally affectionate and will, hundreds of times a day, stop what he is doing to come over, grab my cheeks and say "MmmmmmmAH! whilst planting open lips (and sometimes, teeth!) on my face. That's how he gives kisses. And, unlike a small sister of mine, that I might mention, he never "runs out of kisses". He has an endless supply and will give me huge ones whenever I ask and whenever he's passing my way on his rounds.
Isaac's snuggles are the best. He loves nothing more
than coming in to bed with Mummy and Daddy and cuddling us. He, upon arrival into the bed, will have his arm under your neck and his other hand stroking (or pulling, as seen here....it's how he relaxes) your hair, often whilst you stroke his. It's a lovely thing to watch (as he especially loves cuddling Daddy like this), and it's precious to be a part of.

Along with his beautiful affection, Isaac is also the friendliest boy. He will smile and wave to everyone in a way that is as though he's known them forever. As a mother, it's a bittersweet thing to behold. Sometimes, he makes people's day by waving to them so enthusiastically. Other times, I watch his confusion when he waves at people and they don't wave back....(I could really lay it on thick and tell you that he often turns around in his push chair so he can keep waving at their retreating figures, as if they might suddenly turn around...but they never do. Yes, you may cry.)

Isaac is also very, very gentle. A friend of mine has a beautiful baby girl. When Isaac first spent time with her properly, she was about 4 months old or so. He reached out his hand and stroked her hair so softly! I was amazed because we'd not ever been around a little baby before--how did he know? He's just amazing like that. He is so sweet natured and so kind. He's very good at sharing, be it toys or food and he loves being around other children.

Isaac is an excellent talker. There isn't anything that he won't at least TRY and say, and each day he will say something new or say something more clearly than the day before. Today, for example, "more" went from being "Ma" to "more"..like....properly. And he said "pepper" (Bebba), as he was holding a yellow bell pepper for me in the shop, and then told Daddy what it was later on! You tell him something once and he remembers.

Words

Yeah- YAH! (Like the lion- see below)- always accompanied by vigorous nodding (how we know he's not talking about Lions...which he often does.)

Mumma

Dadda

Teeth (Tsee) -always accompanied by touching his teeth.

Cheese (Tseets)

Duck (Du')

Bubble (Bubba)

Bird (Bir)- always accompanied by pointing in the air

Bear (Bear)

Dog (Doh)

Cat (Dad)

More

Pepper (bebba)

Bye-bye (bu-bah)

Jesus (Tseetsees)

Book (Bu)

Bath (Ba

Animal noises (his first ever "words")

Cow - Moo

Lion- YAH!

Monkey- Oo-oo-oo

Elephant - Raises arm into the air, like a trunk. (Noise TBC, coming soon to a blog post near you)

He still signs the odd thing, drink, milk, please, thank you and now, "pooh" (delightful, no?) But of all the words he signs, the latter is the only one he says as well. He makes very little attempt to actually speak the words he can sign well. Which is fine, because he's communicating and we understand him!

Not every day is perfect, even if he is pretty perfect. He screams in a very high pitched way when he doesn't get his way and he cries very dramatically if , after the scream, he STILL doesn't get his way. But I have a trick. He loves whispers and his Grandad (Ieu's Dad) does a special whispery thing in his ear, which Isaac loves (to the point that when he's with Grandad, he will put his ear to Grandad's mouth!), so when he's being loud and screechy, I whisper in his ear "Isaac?" (and he stops, or calms down) "It's OK to be sad, but it's NOT OK to be cross." (Which is something I think MY Mum used to say) "Now (still whispering)...would you like a cuddle?" And , in his little, tearful voice comes the reply "YAH!". How can I resist!!!!

Another little difficulty is eating (see rare image of food being consumed pre epiphany
). We alternate between sausages and chicken for dinner every day. Sometimes he will have it with mash and veg or scrambled egg and veg. The veg never gets eaten. Before we decided to make meal times about what he will eat (advice given to me by my lovely friend Kathryn), rather than what he won't, meal times were very stressful for all of us and filled me with dread. We watched him lose weight before our eyes! Then, one day, we fed him the breaded chicken we were eating and he ate it all. I cried. I actually cried. Only someone who has experienced the hardship of having a fussy eater will appreciate the sheer elation and relief that comes when they finally find something they enjoy! Now, his diet isn't too varied but there are at least a few things in every food group that he will eat, so it's just a matter of alternating those things! I have every confidence that things will keep getting better, as we give him plenty of exposure to new things, but rely on his old favourites too!

Last week, on our 3 year anniversary, Isaac started properly walking. We thought it would happen, as we went away wi
th Ieuan's family and Isaac got to spend time with Alfred who is 3 months older and a real walking pro. It's been a long time coming, but he's finally done it and he LOVES it. He is so happy to be up and around. We bought him reins yesterday. He's still probably a bit unsure on his feet for reins but coupled with him holding the side of the pram, there's no stopping him. He was actually running away with me!

Isaac has never been a big Television watcher, and though he enjoys Thomas the Tank Engine, he won't sit and watch an episode. Music is his favourite thing. His favourite song is a percussion piece called "Fandango 13". I put it on when I have showers and things. He won't budge. I'm not even sure he blinks when it's on. He loves all kinds of music but, without a doubt, his very favourite things are percussion pieces.

He's very clever. Very like his Daddy in the way he plays. He's very methodical and focused and has always appeared to be a deep thinker. I remember when he would save his smiles for Ieuan and I only and we wondered if he would always be so aloof with other people. I could not have hoped for a more friendly, loving child. Already, I am seeing traits in him that I want to emulate. I wish I had the fearlessness to say hello to everyone who walks by me! I'm trying to be better at that.

Isaac is...the very best reason to be alive. Every day, at least once, I have a surreal experience where I watch this child, called Isaac, playing or reading and I think, "this is MY son. He's 14 months old. How did this even happen?" (No...you don't actually need to explain. Really.) And as I watch him go about his little business, I feel, from deep inside, a real sense of belonging. Being here, not 'here' as in, on this sofa, in this house, but being here, with my boys, being here to look after them, support them, care for them, love them....there could be nothing more important. I'm so excited for this year, and for all the things Isaac will achieve. I have 2 main hopes for him.
Little Love, read and remember these.

1) I want you to always be the loving, kind, friendly person you are.
2) I want you to eat more than sausages, chicken nuggets and cheddar biscuits!

"I saw Mummy kissing Santa Claus..."

This is a very Christmassy song, and is on all the old favourite CDs. When I was younger though, I didn't quite 'get it'. Especially the line "what a laugh it would have been if Daddy had only seen..." ARE THEY CRAZY?? That type of thing could RUIN Christmas. Of course when I "found out" (see previous post) I "got it" and found it amusing and endearing. I could happily relate to the children who accidentally spy their parents hugging or kissing. My sister Jess would feign the grossed- out adolescent but secretly, I know she appreciated it too. It's lovely to know your parents love each other. My husband also comes from that kind of home. My parents-in-law are very much in love and I know that this has made an impression on Ieuan and the way he is as a husband.

Here are pictures of our beautiful parents (I hope they don't mind!), whom we love very much. We are so grateful for their examples!

This subject isn't something I've thought particularly for a long while...until just the other day.

When Ieuan comes home from university, Isaac is invariably in his high chair enjoying/hating dinner. The sight of his Daddy turns his enjoyment of dinner into ecstasy or his hatred of dinner into enjoyment. Daddy has a remarkable effect on Isaac's mood, and it is wonderful to see. So, Daddy comes in, plays 'boo' with Isaac, gives him a kiss and then comes over to me and gives me a big hug and a kiss. Recently, during our cuddle, we notice that all is silent. We turn our heads simultaneously and see Isaac with his head cocked, and a big cheeky grin on his face that seems to say "naaawwww, you guys!/ I just saw Mummy kissing Santa Claus"

(Kind of like this!)

It makes us laugh! But, in all seriousness, Isaac loves it when Ieuan and I hug. And that's made me think. There's all kinds of security that you seek for as a family, that you think would be the most important for your child- financial security, a stable roof over your head (no, not THAT kind of stable!) a good school... perhaps it's important to you to not move around too much, or to encourage your children to associate with the same group of friends throughout their student life. Maybe, it's important for you to help your child feel secure by keeping them up-to-date with the "in" things... One Direction, X boxes, Frozen... In order to achieve these ideals, we put an extraordinary amount of effort in- working hard to earn all we would need to be financially secure and ensure our children want for nothing. We expend a lot of time and energy filling our children's lives with extra-curricular activities, and keeping busy to give them an exciting life filled with things "the other children do". All of these things ARE important. Absolutely. But not at the expense of the most important KIND of stability.

 I put it to you that perhaps financial security, a big house and the latest Frozen merchandise will not replace the stability found in a husband and wife loving and showing love to each other. A small house is fine, if your parents love each other. Scrimping and saving together is fine when your parents spend time with each other and with their children. And, trust me, happiness is not found in the latest games console. I only have a tiny child, and so perhaps I can't speak with such authority on the subject. On the other hand, I have been a child and still am the child of my parents. I have been a child in a single parent home, in a home with a new parent, and, eventually, new siblings. I have been in a home where there hasn't been a large bedroom for each child, or the latest gadgets, and I can remember plenty of times when we've saved hard as a family because our financial situation required that of us. When I look at all of the transient situations we can find ourselves in, and that I have been in myself, I look back and see security amidst it all because my parents created a stable environment for me with their time, their love for each other, and their love for us.

As a parent now, I feel very keenly, a desire to fill Isaac's life with the same joys. The REAL, lasting joys. I see too many couples mock each other, or be unkind, callous or sarcastic. Too many people seem to jump on the "slate your husband with the other women" band wagon. It's tragic.
I love my husband. I respect him as the head of our home and as my partner in parenting. I love to support him in all he does. I love being his friend and confidante. I love being his girlfriend and wife. I love building a family with him. I hope that, regardless of what life throws at us, Isaac will always feel safe and secure in the knowledge that Mummy and Daddy love each other, and that they love him. I want him to see us speaking kindly to each other, helping each other, laughing together, hugging and holding hands with each other, because that's how HE will learn to be kind to others, to show affection, to be caring and sharing... The responsibility on us as parents in this day and age is tremendous. This week I have come to a real understanding that in order for Isaac to be the kind of boy I want him to be, it needs to start with me and my husband, in our home.

So if you've been busy recently, and haven't had that end-of-the-day reunion hug when you or your husband come home, treat yourselves. A family that hugs together, stays together.

"I believe..."

I've been meaning to write this for some time, so bear with me as a sort out all the thoughts I have racing through my head!

One of my most favourite Christmas films is "Miracle on 34th Street". I love it when the baddies reveal their "I believe" badges. I love it because it makes it perfectly plausible for grown-ups to believe whole-heartedly and unreservedly in Father Christmas and all he stands for. I would, for the record, like to stand on my Christmassy soap box and shout to the world... "I BELIEVE IN FATHER CHRISTMAS". Even after I was told, at the age of 11 that Father Christmas was not real, I still believed and held, desperately on to all the evidences I had...

• That note he wrote me in green pen, in elaborate, cursive handwriting, when I asked him to buy my wonderful parents 'jewels' from Argos (my class knows no bounds). He told me that "You and your sister are the greatest jewels your parents could have ever asked for"...
• That sooty Rudolph footprint from the [electric, I believe] fireplace at my Grandma's one Christmas morning. 
• How do you explain how those store Santas always managed to give me gifts I LOVED??

The reason for my desperate clutching was because I had not ever even wondered about Santa's authenticity. There were no questions in my mind. Not one. He was real, I wrote to him every year, he brought gifts, left a stocking on the end of my bed... He and I were tight. 

I remember the fateful day when my mother delivered the blow. I felt a little bit like my Christmasses would never, ever be the same. And I was right. (So far, you may feel that I am bolstering the view of the "Don't let your children believe because Santa's a LIE" camp. Wait, my friends. Wait). 

It took me a couple of years to get into a new Christmas groove. I enjoyed helping my parents with the stockings. I didn't even mind helping Rudolph eat his 'Smarties' (don't tell me about carrots. Rudolph always had Smarties in my house). It was fun. But there was one thing that never changed. Every year, on Christmas Eve night, I wrote my letter to Father Christmas- partly, I suppose, to keep things going for my younger sister, but mostly, to keep some of the magic alive for myself. It was this simple, personal tradition that transformed my Christmasses from "Father Christmas" oriented to "Christmas Spirit" oriented. 

"It is a glorious thing to have old St. Nicholas in our hearts and in our homes today, whether he enters the latter through the open door or creeps down the chimney on Christmas Eve. To bring happiness to others without seeking personal honor or praise by publishing it is a most commendable virtue. . . .

Good old St. Nicholas has long since gone the way of all mortals, but the joy he experienced in doing kindly deeds is now shared by millions who are learning that true happiness comes only by making others happy—the practical application of the Savior’s doctrine of losing one’s life to gain it. In short, the Christmas spirit is the Christ spirit, that makes our hearts glow in brotherly love and friendship and prompts us to kind deeds of service." David O McKay (9th President of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints)

I remember realising one year how my letters to Father Christmas had changed. They had gone from...

 "Dear Father Christmas,

Thank you so much for the wonderful doll you left last Christmas. It was perfect. This year, I don't want much at all, but you know me....another doll would be great..." (more or less)

to...

"Dear Father Christmas,

I've had a really wonderful year. Thank you so much for all you've done. Last Christmas was really wonderful. I've been very blessed. I feel very grateful for my family and friends and for all that I have....."

You see, I realised then that my letters weren't to Father Christmas at all. They were to my Heavenly Father. At some point, they had changed addressee- from the man who gave me physical gifts at Christmas time, to the man who gives me all kinds of gifts all year round. 

Was it wrong for me to believe in Father Christmas? Was it blasphemous for me to attribute many of the qualities of a loving Heavenly Father to a jolly man in a red suit? I don't believe so. After I lost my Christmas groove following finding out about Father Christmas, it was by CONTINUING to "believe" that helped me to find it again.

The man in the red suit is a perfect symbol for everything that Christmas should be about. He is the image that personifies the excitement a child feels at this time of year, and is, consequently, a wonderful way to help children understand their feelings and expand upon them. As a Christian, Christmas is all about Christ for me. ALL about Him. I believe in Christ all the year through and I try every day to be more like him in his goodness, kindness, compassion etc... Believing in Father Christmas takes a small part of the joy of Christ and wraps it up especially for Christmas, for all people to enjoy, religious or not. 

Father Christmas is generous, happy, kind, forgiving (no doubt there were Christmasses in all our lives where we did not deserve all we received! Yet somehow, he always came!) There is nothing unkind, or evil about Father Christmas. In his essence, he is NOT a commercial creation for the selling of the latest toys. Not at all. I would put it to you that, perhaps, if you feel that way, you have got HIM all wrong. He never brought me the lastest toys or the most expensive gadgets. He never went over the top. In my house, he was just they way he should be and he was magical. Indeed, I would say, for Father Christmas to be magical, you need very little.

What I learned from my years of writing those letters is that they were all to 

Father Christmas. 

The Father OF Christmas. 

The Father of Christ. Indeed,

The Father of us all. 

HE is whom I have to be grateful for all the gifts I receive...whether that's that my parents were able to afford the doll I have always wanted, or that this year I have been able to help friends in need, or use my talents and time to bless others... or most importantly, that HE sent His son to earth to live, and die, and rise again, as an example to us all of how to be and who we can turn to for help as we walk the paths of life. We do not need to be alone. Because our Heavenly Father, gave us that first, most precious Christmas gift, we might have happiness and joy, not just at Christmas time, but all the year through. 

I am so grateful for the things I have learnt through my belief in Father Christmas. I am excited to make him come alive for my children, as my parents did for me, and I am equally excited to see them learn and discover the same things that I have. Because for me, he IS real, because all he stands for is real. So. I believe in Father Christmas. *shows badge*.

"There are men who object to Santa Claus, because he does not exist! Such men need spectacles to see that Santa Claus is a symbol; a symbol of the love and joy of Christmas and the Christmas spirit. In the land of my birth there was no Santa Claus, but a little goat was shoved into the room, carrying with it a basket of Christmas toys and gifts. The goat of itself counted for nothing; but the Christmas spirit, which it symbolized, counted for a tremendous lot." John A Widtsoe, (former member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles)