Category Archives: parenting

Did I Screw up?

Chatting about the past few years, experiences, opportunities, covid and all the craziness that brought, I text my partner, “I wonder how much I’ve screwed up?”

“You haven’t screwed up darling” he responded in a heartbeat. Always there, encouraging me… even when we have no idea what to do next. I am grateful.

I haven’t responded yet, I decided to write this instead!

Truthfully, I have screwed up. We all do at times. In my journey as a mum, I’ve screwed up on many occasions – but what I’ve learned is, that the rupture isn’t as important as the repair.

I sat on my bed earlier this summer, and I cried. My daughter – at 2 years old – asked me what was wrong, and I told her that I was sad and angry and that I had some big feelings … or something like that; I was upset because I felt overwhelmed at something. Her response will stick with me always:

She cupped my face in her hands and said, “It’s okay mama, I have big feelings too sometimes, but you help me with them. You’ll be happy later”

She just got it. It didn’t matter why I was upset, or who was to blame. It didn’t matter what was screwed up. It didn’t matter if the dishes didn’t get done or the clothes stayed out. It didn’t matter.

What mattered was the cuddle. The laugh. The cry and the release. The repair.

A few weeks ago I decided to release a course online. On motherhood, on guilt, on navigating the not-enoughness we feel. On reframing the narrative and celebrating ourselves.

Yet here I am, sharing vulnerably, that I still feel not enough. I need my support systems; I have built a framework, for myself, that brings me back to a mindspace of celebration, gratitude and joy. I’ve learned this year, more than ever, that no-matter what I feel like I screwed up – there is always joy to be found.

It is not the screwing up that matters; it is how we choose to repair it.

Tonight, my worries and thoughts have come from past events; so repair isn’t as easy as saying sorry and moving forward. It requires intention; planning, and attention to my children’s needs now.

Repair is powerful; saying sorry has been one of the biggest tools in my toolbox. Repair also requires forgiveness; of myself. Self compassion, knowing I absolutely did the best I could, with what I had, at the time, and a big hug! Havening myself tonight has been a source of comfort for sure.

We all screw up. I did. I have. I will.

I feel it more right now I think, as I look towards sharing my toolbox with others, even though I am still in the messy middle of feeling my big feelings too.

But no-matter what, I know I can look at my babies, as they sleep, and feel deeply, that we are all doing the best we can, whatever that means for us right now. And that, in my experience, makes all the difference.

Xoxo

Rohana

Love Buttons and Goodbye Hugs

Last week the kids said goodbye to their dad again… a relatively regular occurrence for our family, like any military family will know. For us though it doesn’t usually involve a plane, and for the first time since Theodore’s birth, it was him saying goodbye to return to the UK, while I stayed in Gibraltar with our children.

They know that he works long hours, nights away, weeks away, and part of his job (although it hasn’t affected us in recent years – for which I am grateful) is going away for months at a time. It’s part of life with him being a submariner. A life without daddy is unimaginable; but a life where he isn’t around all the time, its the norm.

We’ve stayed in Gibraltar, after being here since the early autumn, actively making more moves towards changing the direction of our life, away from a life we had planned in the UK. It’s a tumultuous turn of events; one even 6 months ago I had never imagined would be our reality, and yet, in my bones I know that this is our destiny. To change. To shift. To grow something more than what our current life offers.

So last week we said goodbye, and we did something new; a little ritual that provided a wholesome, connected farewell, and has been a source of comfort throughout our week.

We gave the kids, love buttons.

Yep, they are as cute as they sound, and totally harmless.

Drawing a heart on each of their hands, one colour for mummy, one colour for daddy; the kids have had a slowly fading inked heart of their hands, which they’ve been able to look at and press, and feel a sense of connection, of love, of wantedness with their dad.

Of course they know they are loved. Every voice message, video call, and hug tells them that.

And yet, there is something powerful in the symbolism of a drawn signature; theirs and theirs alone… to share and compare between brothers and sister, and to remind each other, that they are all loved. They can see it. They can feel it. They, in their childhood wisdom, are able to live in it.

Being away from a parent, regardless of how adaptable a child is, is tough. We ask for a lot of their courage, understanding, acceptance; and often, though the narrative is changing, don’t really sit and think about life from their point of view.

For example; to my kids right now, I’d imagine a collective narrative like this one:

Mummy has moved us all (except daddy) away from our home, into someone else’s (albeit a trusted and loved grandparents home), away from friends, away from toys and parks and spaces we know.
We’ve played and done things, and miss home.
We miss dad.
We miss our toys and television, and our special pillows.
We miss our stained red sofa and the stairs we play slide on.
We also like the parks here, and some of the people we’ve met.
We like having grandparents around, but we also miss our dad.
We see other dads, and wonder why ours can’t be here.
We wonder why money and jobs and houses are so important to the grown ups.
We feel happy and sad and a mix of other things we aren’t sure we have names for… but every day we play and try our best, and we’re with mummy, so we’ll be okay.

Looking at life from their view helps realign my own. It’s how and why I chose to create these love buttons; because simply saying I love you, didn’t feel like enough.

Overthinking Play

Play is a vital part of childhood. We develop most of our early skills through play and so allowing my son a variety of ways to play is currently a top priority.

This one is simple really, I just wanted to share about the way we play. Having a 2 year old means a LOT of testing, and sometimes it’s not always possible to spend every single minute involved in their play.

There is housework, cooking, showering, going to the loo etc etc etc. Some things, there is room for my toddler, even if I don’t necessarily want to share; for example, I have given up attempting to have a wee without either being followed or demanded down the stairs again. However, when I am cooking or washing the dishes, the boundaries are firmer, he is NOT allowed to put his hand in the hot water, or play with the oven dials or use a knife. Simple right ? Unless you are a 2 year old who feels like the world is overwhelming and unfair and Mummy never lets you do anything interesting!

It’s hard being a toddler. And I say that sincerely.

Honestly I would love to stay on the floor or sofa and play all day. Some days we do that, and have left-overs or daddy makes dinner. But other days it’s impossible. Instead of ‘dealing with a screaming toddler’ though, I try to find ways we can adapt situations so he is busy while I am too. It doesn’t always work, but even 50% is better than nothing. Extra bonus, it gives me something to explore with him another day or ask about before bed.

These are some of my recent play set ups. I haven’t used them all yet, and will fully confess that a lot is inspired by various Instagram accounts who are much better at this than I am. Regardless, what we are doing works for us right now so that’s all that matters to me.

Play is hard sometimes. I tend to expect something from it or for TP to want new things, but often he’s happy to repeat crafts we’ve done. Letting go of expectations is something both H and I are working hard on. Child led can be challenging. The results are worth it, in time.

How do you play? Are there any prompts you’d like to see or try? Send me your thoughts and ideas, I’d love to hear.

When my Inner Critic Tells Me I’m a Bad Parent…

It’s the end of another long day. I’ve just curled up in my bed and though sleep beckons, I want to write. I want to share.

This morning started off like many do, with my son laying on my arm, and my husbands alarms calling him to get up for work. He gave us both a kiss, with an extra for the bump, and was off. Theo Prana woke shortly after.

Like most days this week, TP cried for daddy but soon settled at the promise of cuddles and a milk bottle. Unlike most days however, he had decided to sleep in, and once his milk was finished, he was not a happy boy. The usual fights began, take the wet nappy off, teeth brushing, finding clothes for the day etc… I was rushing around and all my boy wanted was “up, mummy up”. He has been super clingy off late, and with a sore back and growing belly, I am struggling to carry him all the time.

One by one, things got ticked off the list, we were ready, with an on-the-go breakfast banana and all our things packed for the day.  A stressful morning to say the least! 

Finally out the house, I held back tears as we walked to play group. Mum guilt hit and it wasn’t even 9am. Our late wake up meant that I hadn’t let him take his time; I had rushed his getting ready, and snapped at him when he wasn’t fast enough. I began to go through the morning in my head, and my Inner Critic (IC) told me I was doing a terrible job.

Sound familiar? 

I know I’m not the only one who has these mornings; but sometimes when they come along, it is easy to feel alone; especially when my IC tries to win out over my rational voice. It eats away at me and if I let it, it can turn a bad moment into a bad day. So I tell it to be quiet, I breath and I talk to my son. We sing songs, and we look for birds and cars and marvel at the dogs that walk past us.

The truth is that nobody is doing a bad job.

When we give to our kids the best of us, when we try and try and try every single day, it is absolutely impossible for us to be doing a terrible job. Our kids don’t think so – at least not until they are teenagers normally – so why do we?

I think it’s because we second guess everything we do as parents. With all the books and advice around, it’s easy to overthink, and to forget we have a natural instinct for this life.

Parenting is a beautiful and chaotic mess, it is filled with laughter and tears, excitement and disappointment, joy and anger. There are many things in-between and many before and after, and every single part is precious.

Savoring hard moments is over-rated yes, but feeling them, and allowing them to teach us, even if that means crying on the walk to a playgroup. It’s the kind of day I know I’ll remember.

Xoxo

R