Monday 28 May 2012

Yesterday

I'm back! I'm updating my blogroll tomorrow and I'll give a book update soon (the short version? OUCH. That was a painful month). I've missed being here. And, so, here's what I've been thinking about lately.  And by the way, my writing aim at the moment is to say less. Write shorter. Wish me luck.
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Yesterday was a bad day. I was sick as a dog - my head congested, my ears burning with pain. I did not parent my children very well through this.  In the last few days they have both learned to start sentences with I want and it's more than I can bear, especially right now. I want pasta. I want watch TV. I want go park. I want. I want. I want and it's driving me crazy. Please, Mummy, pasta? I remind them. They have the language skills for the polite version but they prefer it the other way. I want. I want. I want.  They prefer the efficiency, I think, and they also know how much I dislike it and they prefer the amusement they get from seeing how far they can push me before I c-r-a-c-k.

Not very far, yesterday. I want. I want. IwantIwantIwantIwant. There came a point where I yelled at Blue: "STOP IT. JUST STOP IT. I CAN'T TAKE IT ANY MORE" and then sat down on the floor, clutched my aching head and cried.  "Mummy screaming" said Pink, vaguely horrified and vaguely gratified. And of course, that just made me cry more, from the crushing guilt. Happy times.

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Yesterday was a good day. I showed the children our wedding pictures for the first time, and they were entranced. Lately they've been hugely interested in family stories. Pink is putting some of the pieces together, and is especially interested in the fact that the shiny ring on my finger means Mummy-an-Daddy got MURRIED. Recently we have put a whole lot of framed maps up in our dining room - maps of places we have been and places that are important to us. We have a series of three customised prints from this great etsy shop above our kitchen door and Pink knows: Mummy Daddy murried on da yellow one, met pink-an-blue on da blue one and da grey one is HOME!  I finally did up a photo lifebook for them over the Easter holidays and they absolutely love it. They call it their 'special book' and they want to look at it all the time. But this is the first time they have begged to see the 'murried book' and the three of us sat down in the sunshine together and slowly looked through the pages. It was incredible. I haven't looked at our wedding photos for ages and it's so strange to look at then-me with my now-children on my lap and think girl, you had no idea what was coming.  It's sad to see just how many people in our photos have died or divorced each other in the nearly-eight-years since those photos were taken, people these children will never know. I tell Pink again about the great-grandmother for whom she was given her middle name. It means nothing to her now, but it will one day. She turns over the page. As that long-ago day progresses in front of us, I am interested to see the answer to a question that has been bothering me lately - it seems that yes, I did always have a double chin, even when I was very thin. Good to know.

I hold them tight - one on each knee, sitting on what they call my 'side lap'. If they have to share me, they are sitting on 'side lap'. If they have me all to themselves they turn around and grin and say 'sitting on BIG lap, Mummy!' but that's rare. They usually have to share. I have one arm around each one and they aren't fighting and I just feel so privileged that these two precious children are being woven into our family's history. It's not something I take for granted. I love how much they love hearing the stories, even though there's nothing interesting about them. Talking, Mummy, more talking says Blue.  More talking about murried. And really, I've said it all, fifty times over, but I start with Well, Daddy asked me "Mummy, will you marry me?" and I say it all again.

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Yesterday was a bad day. Blue would not eat at all. Not not-hungry not-eating, but not-gonna-give-you-the-satisfaction not-eating. After dinner was supposed to be over, I left him sitting in his chair at the table outside while Pink scrambled for her latest library book. I was uncertain about it when she chose it - it's called My Mummy and I'm often a bit nervous about those kind of books. Usually they centre around how the child's Mummy is the BEST mummy in the ENTIRE WORLD, which is sweet, obviously, but can be kinda unhelpful when your child actually has two mummies. But this one is fine - it's actually a Peppa Pig book and it's not about the reader's Mummy, it's about Peppa's Mummy so that's all fine. No confusion. Readit, mummy readit said Pink and I did.
Turns out Peppa's Mummy is awesome. She is firm but fair, strict but kind, educational but playful. By the end of the book, I really hated Peppa's Mummy. The last thing she does, on the final page, is have fun splashing with her children in muddy puddles. It won't surprise you to hear that I never do that. Instead, I'm saying no step away don't tread there you'll get dirty come back here come back here come back HERE.  And I read the book cheerfully enough but in reality I was sitting there steaming with resentment and feelings of inferiority towards a cartoon pig.


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Yesterday was a good day. Blue is learning to say I yuv as well as I want.  He sort of understands how to use it but not entirely. As I was changing him for bed, he told me, in his adorable little-boy voice, that he yuvved Daddy. I melted. That seemed like  a good start and okay,I was fishing for a compliment so I said who else do you love, Blue?  


He leaned forward and said I yuv.... I yuv.... I yuv... BABY WIPES!  And he said it with such sincerity and passion that I couldn't help myself - I laughed and laughed. I love this unpredictable little kid so much. He really does love baby wipes, I'm sure. Such a pleasantly cool feeling on his poopy little summertime butt. 

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So yesterday was a normal day, I guess. And I can't help wondering - when all of their childhood days blur together, which of these things are they going to remember? When we talk to each other as mothers we reassure each other that they won't remember that time you shouted at them, they will just remember how you were always there and loved them so much. But I'm not sure that's how we talk about our own parents, is it? A lot of us have perfect recall of the bad things our parents said and did (obviously, I'm not talking about my parents, since a) they were perfect and b) occasionally read this blog). But we do tend to expect perfection of our own parents. We don't really think we're going to get it, but it still disappoints us that we don't and the stuff they get wrong hurts us. Why would we think that our children would have lower standards than we do?

I do know that the longer I am a  mother, the more I admire my own mother's parenting in the days when her children were little. I don't ever remember her yelling at me like I yelled at Blue. And I don't think she ever lost her mind at her children in the foyer of a crowded theatre, just to pull a totally hypothetical example out of the air. Was she just more self-controlled than me? Did she do it, but hypnotise me afterwards to make me forget? Or was I just an easier kid? (Yeah, definitely that last one, for sure).

I can't work this one out. If one of my friends was to decide to talk to a therapist about their childhood, I'd be behind them all the way. But when Blue is in therapy for being shouted at too much, am I allowed to go along too? Am I allowed to say 'hey, but don't you remember looking at those wedding pictures too? That was fun, wasn't it? Wasn't it?'  I'm not entirely joking. But I don't suppose it works that way.





27 comments:

  1. Hysterical. And... oh crying on the floor, so normal around here.

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    1. Glad it's not just me. I think! What is it about the floor that suddenly seems so appealing in those circumstances? I have no idea!

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  2. Don't worry you've got years before they start remembering! Us...we have to watch it with 2/3 of our group. Lol.

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    1. Ha! That's true! But sadly, there's no guarantee I will have things any more together in a year or two's time... is there? Please tell me if there is!

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  3. Stupid perfect cartoon moms... pigs or otherwise.

    Also, the munchkins wanting to look at your wedding photos is just too cute for words.

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    1. yeah... as if there aren't enough REAL people to make me feel like a substandard mother, here come the fictional characters. Great!

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  4. I really love baby wipes, too. But not for the same reason as Blue. I don't generally have a poopy summertime butt.

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    1. I am very sincerely glad to hear that.

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  5. Thank you for reminding me that I'm not entirely alone in losing it and crying in front of my son. There's been a bit of that around here lately.

    And remembering? Well, I console myself with the fact that when I was little, my father's stories of growing up usually ended with a description of my grandmother driven demented, screaming and chasing him, which he still found hilarious decades later. I hope my son has the same rosy memories of seeing me hysterical, but I am terrified he'll earn them in similar ways (dangling sibling out upstairs window, blowing up grandparents' gas cooker, etc.).

    PS - I can't stand Peppa Pig.

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    1. Hey, that's a great point! Hopefully he and his therapist will have a great laugh about it together. Here's hoping, right?

      (I have mixed feelings about the pig. I liked her a lot more before I read this book).

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  6. I love this. The good, the bad, the indifferent. It all blends together. I've definitely had the ugly cry in front of my boys home just seven weeks. "Mom sad?" Getu asked. "Yes, Mom sad," was all I could say. Thanks for keeping it read.
    P.S. When your blog popped up today, I was SO excited. I'm glad you're back for a few words.

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    1. Ah.... the ugly cry. So sorry you've already been there too.

      (and... thank you! It's really good to be back on the internet and catching up with what's been happening! My poor google reader is about to explode, I think).

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  7. I remember the phase when B.G. only spoke in declarative sentences. It drove me mad. Oh wait. She still does that.

    Funny you should talk about what we remember about our parents. just yesterday we were discussing our parents, the DH and I, and I told him that though she never said it out loud or in so many words, I always knew growing up, that my Mom had my back. That no matter what happened, no matter how badly I would effe up or stray or whatever happened, she would be there for me. I just knew it.

    Conversely, I knew my Dad would kill me. So really, I had to make sure I got to my Mom first because she would help me hide whatever it was. hahahahahahaha But of course I was a perfect child so none of that was necessary.

    I remember someone told me that as a parent you do the best you can and then your kids have to take it up with their therapists.

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    1. Oh, I didn't know the word for it. Declarative sentences. Yes. That. SO UNBELIEVABLY ANNOYING. Do I really have years and years and years more of this to look forward to? Please say you're bluffing.

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    2. I can say it.....but I'd be lying.

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  8. ahh Claudia, it's good to have you back, you have been missed. such a lovely post, and one I can relate to entirely on many levels (double chins for starters). Now I have my boy home who is 4, I find myself shouting so much more than ever before and yes, I've wondered how much he'll remember of mummy yelling at him all the time. My mum always said apologetically that she did the best she could. I think I am beginning to relate to that statement now I'm being challenged in this new way. (I started running on the treadmill at night after the kids are in bed just to get all the frustration out of my lungs. an attempt at better mental health as much as physical.)

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    1. So glad I'm not the only one who knows the pain of the double chin. Now that I've really noticed it, I can't un-see it and I'm walking around with my hand in front of my face half the time. Which is of course even more attractive.

      What is it with boys and shouting? I shout so much more at my boy than at my girl. She does just as many insane things, but they aren't quite as shout-worthy, somehow. Head-in-my-hands-and-weep-worthy, definitely, but she doesn't cause me to make as much loud frustrated noise. I wonder if that's universal...

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  9. Oh, I have missed you so much. You and your honest writing.

    I just love the way you talked about the pink pig - I'm actually tempted to look for it here :)

    Can't wait to hear more about the book and about all the other goings on in your life.

    And Pink and Blue? ADORABLE! I'm personally not a fan of baby wipes simply because my kids (C) love to rip them out of the container and it literally drives me dilly. The last time it happened I was SO CROSS you'd swear someone did something really bad to me. But I made him put them all back in the container!

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    1. You know, Peppa is actually a fairly endearing cartoon, as far as these things go. It's not as annoying as Charlie and Lola and it's not as boring as all the ones with trains. I'm sure there's some on youtube!!

      And YES. That thing about them tearing the wipes out of the container - is there ANYTHING more annoying? But I use them anyway because I'm too lazy to sort out anything else!

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  10. We are HUGE fans of Peppa Pig here. Don't hate me. I looooove the baby wipe comment, too. And I love that you're baaaaaack!

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    1. And you are a proper Peppa family, with the older sister and the younger brother! Now you just have to train Tesh to say 'DINOSAUR' all the time and you could totally be on TV!

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  11. Hysterical but so so true...you have me nodding my head, laughing, and also thinking "THANK GOD I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE."

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  12. My god, woman -- this post is so awesome. I'm too frazzled from today to comment intelligently, but just had to share my appreciation. I love how you make me smile and laugh, then get a wee bit teary and "awww!" then feel rage and anxiety and then sweetness again, all at one time.

    That, of course, could also be just me coming down from several weeks of hormone shots...

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  13. i have always thought parent/child therapy is a great idea. and out of all the funny things you said, all i can think is, family therapy is probably starting in like, two years in this house. not later, like age 30...

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  14. My son saw me cry for the first time the other day. He was stunned and walked slowly toward me like I might explode and said quietly, "I never heared a grown up cry before".

    And yes, I always wonder what exactly my kids will remember....will it be us choosing fruit together to juice to make our own popsicles, or me saying, "I really need a break from you and I'm going to have to ask you to go to your room".

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  15. We are apparantly about a month away from bringing our two children home, so this all has me feeling eager and wistful, even the bad day parts. But I'm not a complete idiot, so I know I'll laugh bitterly at myself later for feeling that way.

    I think how your kids remember you has a lot to do with the kid's innate personality too. My sisters and I all know that our mom loved us fiercly and had many, many great qualities as a mom--sense of humor, creativity, spontenaity, acceptance. And we know that she could be a raging bitch as well. For two of us, the good outweighs the bad enough to make it almost irrelevant. For the other two, the love and resentment are pretty firmly intertwined.

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  16. I am of the firm belief that God gave small children limited memories because there is such a steep learning curve when it comes to parenting.

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Over to you!