Hard Seasons of Parenting

Ti’s the season… to be really honest about the phases of parenting that can look really dark and despairing sometimes, especially for neruospicy folk. It might be the new year and all that in the Gregorian calendar, but here in the northern hemisphere, the earth is still deep in her slumber, the days are dark, and as mammals, we should be curled up in the warmth in community, not isolated and out in the cold at all hours of the day.

The last few weeks of festivities and house move have been a real rollercoaster for me parenting wise, and now, I’m taking the time to record and reflect on them. I had been having a really tough time with K, with major meltdowns night terrors multiple time a week. Night terrors are especially scary because at least in my experience, my child isn’t really there at all, they look like themselves but actually have no resemblance to the sweet or fun personality of the kid I know. I’m grateful he’s my 3rd child, because I am aware this happened with both my older children and that this stage doesn’t last forever. That said, when you’re in it, in that moment, it feels like forever, especially when 20 minutes can cause so much damage. The screaming and rage is scary and hard, trying to keep them safe, from each other and themselves, trying to hold on to the knowledge that this is their primal brain, and that they are not consciously or willingly trying to hurt you … but then comes the after, and the pain I feel when the little sobs haven’t quietened yet and I’m stroking their face wondering what I can do to help. It is one of the hardest, darkest parts of parenting I have ever faced. It is one of the loneliest too, because who talks about how their kids tore the room apart or screamed that they wanted to destroy everything in the depths of feelings… nobody I know does.

I do sometimes to be fair, and when I have done so, the looks of horror or surprise, or then relief (depending on who I’m talking to) are always so visible. It’s hard though, and when people don’t understand, it’s easier to make small talk.

I’m really fucking bad at small talk though.

So I share … and recently I share more. The hardest bits, like when A told me she didn’t want to exist anymore because she was so sad in the middle of the night. Or when we played a game at the park, she didn’t fully understand it and thought she’d lost, and screamed and scratched for 45 minutes once we’d made it home, telling me we should have never started that game and she wanted to cut her jacket to pieces. I looked at her and saw that in this game and her reaction, she had created the perfect storm to play out her feelings of not getting what she wanted. She was bubbling over and trying to process her lack of control, and because children speak and heal through play, this was her doing the work of healing.

Thankfully, we have the resources to see that, to resource them, and to repair when ruptures are made. That night, as she sobbed in bed, and said she didn’t know why she’d found it so hard, I held her and said seriously “there is literally nothing you could ever do to make us stop loving you. You cannot hurt us, and we will keep everyone safe as much as we can, but your feelings are always allowed.”

I read the other day about how resources for emotional regulation and tools for a safe nervous system are a form of generational wealth and honestly I love that. These are tools that yes feel foreign to me at times, but are going to be (hopefully) passed down for generations to benefit from. Teaching them and learning with them is healing, for all of us.

I think this literal dark season of winter correlates with some of the darker hours of motherhood, and I am grateful to find moments to reflect, breathe, practice on my mat or go to the woods and let the trees and river hold me in my processing. The depths these kids feel… it scares me. And it’s a mirror. They are highly sensitive and notice everything, but so do I. As a kid, I didn’t understand it. In fact, even into my 20s I didn’t… and I still struggle now. As a neurospicy house, we all feel deeply, H too, though he says less words, and P in his own way tells us through his games or stories or sensory seeking comforts. We are all looking forward to the light.

Lighter days and lighter loads. It isn’t forever, and as the seasons cycle, we do too. Every year, these months around Christmas and cold are, in their own ways, a challenge. Every year, in the midst of it all, I wonder if it will last forever. And every year, we grow, we hold each other, we cry and we laugh, and we get really honest about much we miss the sun.

This year, the lightness feels closer, as we settle into a new space, and we ride the waves of all that comes with big transitions, we exit the festive period and move into new beginnings, not in the Gregorian calendar sense, but in a whole family, new home, new spaces, new learnings and new resources kind of way. I am learning that the more honest I am about the darker seasons of parenting, the lighter they end up becoming.

This might not be the end of all the hard moments this season, and I guarantee there will be more rollercoaster days to come, but right now, sitting with it I am beyond grateful for the cracks shining through these dark hours, and for the darkness – because it is in these hours that I really see just how imperfectly human we all are. I’m sharing it in the hope that someone like me will find it, and feel a little less crazy, a little less lonely and a little more hopeful about their own magick darkness – not to romanticize it or glorify the chaos, but because when I’ve dug deeper, survived those minutes and hours, and loved on my little ones even harder than before, I am reminded that allowing them to feel this means it doesn’t get stuck in their little bodies. Allowing them to feel it means that maybe one day, they’ll be holding space for their own babies, and find it easier than I do … and that is important work.

Until next time, with love and ramblings,

Rohana xox

DAY 35 – When Family Doesn’t Get It

I shared about my birth plans yesterday, but before that, I shared a little on my socials about it, in relation to our home ed, life and preparing for baby. One of the things that got picked up was about our placenta plans, which I fully get, because I have absolutely had alllllll the reactions going when people find out I not only keep my placentas, but I consume them!

The thing is, family isn’t always going to get it. Friends won’t either, but it’s a little different.

Our families are meant to be our safe space, the habour for our ship to dock in, as a friend so beautifully put it chatting the other day. They are supposed to be the people we turn to for support and encouragement… but more often than not, that isn’t how it works.

It used to bother me. I felt like I should appease people, and I was big in my fawn response around pretty much everything, but especially parenting as a new mum. I thought I should take all the advice and listen and implement and try and do things the same, so that we’d be more connected… or something like that. Rohana from back then had a lot of shit to sift through.

Now, I love being challenged and standing my ground. It feels shaky as hell, and I will have a felt sense reaction to it sometimes, but the more I’m challenged, the more I get to see why I choose the life I choose, and why I feel this way. I’m not mad or even affected by this particular issue, because though I was called ‘weird’ I actually love being weird. I love knowing that I am making choices in full autonomy and modelling that for my kids too.

So, when family doens’t get it, do we change, or do we hunker down and get clearer on our reasoning? The latter serves our mental health and relationship to ourselves so much more!

Navigating these situations isn’t always fun, and though I quite enjoy it now, I absolutely didn’t years ago… so if you’re reading this and resonating with the fawn and the discomfort, here’s some things that helped me a lot:

  1. 7-11 breathing (a winner in many many life situations)
  2. Nadhi Sudi pranayama (my favourite)
  3. Journaling … either free journaling where i brain dump on paper/in a book OR using prompts.
  4. Voice noting myself – this has been one the most underrated healing techniques I have ever used.
  5. And, watching my kids… anchoring myself in our life, and thinking about the life I am building for them. Watching them and reminding myself, I am the parent, and I am the one who has to live and answer to life choices later on, so what hurts my heart the least? I do that.

Until tomorrow, just 5 days left! It’s zoomed!

With love, Rohana x

Day 11 – Sunshine, smiles and some midnight musings.

Ahhh what a difference comes with the weather. I know I rambled about this already, but it was just so reinforced today with my dad here for a visit. The kids played outside while I got some house bits sorted, including more of our decor put away ready for moving, and then we head to town for ice creams and a park play.

These are the kinds of things I used to do all the time, and I think in part over the winter, I’d lost sight of how much impact the weather has on me.

It’s not that I don’t enjoy winter, because I do… but my kids struggle to get out the house; and so I find being stuck indoors very hard. I shared how much easier it all feels with my partner and he said “darling you aren’t meant to live life indoors” … he’s right. Generally but also because for my and my mental health, getting out is essential!

This past winter P brought up some of his birth imprints; including feeling rushed and pushed out before he’s ready. It came up in our getting out the house  which would take up to 3 hours on some days. I didn’t have the language for it all at the time, but now I see this need for absolute control as a way to regain some of what was lost in his birth.

When I first heard about them, I knew, birth imprints made sense to me… albeit a little ‘out there‘ in terms of understanding them. Working through this one with P – whcih outside of some play has involved ONLY working on my own nervous system, I feel so strongly about the way they can impact us.

Diving deeper and learning more has been super interesting and I am right in the middle of some books now, fascinated.

The changing weather helps us, because as it gets brighter and warmer, he’s more willing to come out. When we had a garden that was enclosed, he would spend hours climbing and being out… so I’m looking forward to this again. My intention is to build a space for them to really be able to spin and jump and play in the ways that they need for their bodies. His body NEEDs to move, and there’s nothing wrong with that… it helps his brain. Through the winter  he slowed down a lot, got into more lego and sat for ages, focused and content. Now, he’s jumping and climbing everything… I’m grateful to go along with as much as I can.

Seeing them play and find creatures has been epic. P spend a long time telling my dad all about different pokemon evolutions while he ran around or enacted different scenes. My dad, focused on looking for caterpillars, listened and repeated back all the right things to validate to P that what he was infodumping was important. Its got me thinking about finding a pokemon magazine or similar, to see if it’ll encourage some reading. So far, he adores looking through our pokemon encyclopedia and he is memorising the evolutions from there.

K, obsessed with bugs at the moment, pottered after my dad with a magnifying glass, thrilled to be out for so many hours with someone finding him all the things to look at and hold.

I haven’t dived into much of his birth recently, though I’m drawing on aspects of all of theirs as I plan for our next.

A was at preschool so in between house jobs, I’ve started making my birth plans … though I advise for a plan A, B, C and D, I’m starting with our actual plan, and then, our emergency one. Over the next week, I’ll be creating more in depth scenario based bits… and packing a bag I don’t intend to use. 

I have been very chilled so far, and as we get closer I feel really trusting that this birth will bring what it needs to. I have had lots of quiet and I’m grateful for it… but that’s for another share. Probably not tomorrow’s. 

For tonight,  I’ll leave it,

With love, Rohana x

Day 3

What a rollercoaster day!

I’m showing up here, reminding myself that I’m committed, and also absolutely exhausted. The day has been filled with noise from my kids, and my brain is seeking quiet dreams. As I type, my 6yo is cocooned in bed, chatting to himself, and the others are finally snoring.

P has just told me that when he cocoons, its because he’s tired, or sad, or angry, or out of energy. It’s his way of saying, this is a way for him to feel safe, enveloped in the folds of the the thick blanket, he enjoys the comfort, and seeks it out when he feels things get too big, or when he wants rest.

His explanations never cease to amaze me, because though I have already understood this tool in his toolbox, he’s verbalising it to me, and that feels expansive.

Tonight I’m thinking about creation. Specifically about the phrase create more than you consume. I bought the kids cameras after many many months of toying with the idea; and today they’ve been busy capturing all the things… around the house, each other, random shots and details, and of course lots of blank or blurry ones too. It has been so wholesome to watch, especially after our trip to Wales a few weeks ago, where they were all keen to have a go with my DSLR, and actually had a lot of fun posing for pictures and instructing each other from behind the camera.

It was the tipping point for me in buying these for them, and I’m really impressed so far, but of course aware that day 1 is novel, and so curious to see how they will stand the test of time.

They are creating… and seeing them create is one of the most interesting experiences of parenting so far for me. Seeing how they express their energy, create movement, games and different forms of art, each in their own way.

I find it strange to call myself a creative person, because through school I was often pushed to be more analytical, less creative, leaving that to the actual artists. Its something as I reflect on, I am determined to repair for my own children; because though I might not share much of what I create, I am essentially always working on some kind of creation…

From doodles to beaded animals, jewellery to nail art as a child and then teen, to now as an adult, cresting digital art, exploring watercolours, making t-shirts or posters, creating home ed resources or spaces in our home; and of course, art from behind my camera lens is one of the most powerful forms of storytelling for me.

Create more than you consume.

I hadn’t thought about our life in this way before, but I think we do… we are constantly creating, living in a dance of inner worlds, ideas, projects and plans. I’ve learned how to create more play with my children, and I see them bring new ideas to life every day.

We are creating, all the time.

It’s not a stretch then to think we create our reality… but that thought is for another day! I’ve got snuggles waiting with P.

💕

Oh, before I go, just for fun, have you created anything to bring you joy today? Can you? … go do it!

With love,

Rohana  x

Day 1

I have been avoiding this; so here I am day 1 of 40. Committing to myself, possibly as a way to, once these days are done, say goodbye to my blog and move elsewhere.

I have no idea what I’ll write over 40 days, but tonight, I’m musing over commitment, and how, I am so deeply committed to some things, but then others are so goddamn hard. I commit to projects, or people and last year I deeply committed to my own personal practice. This year though, I have tried and tried and continuously found myself avoiding or excusing a lack of consistency.

Perhaps it’s the lack of novelty that my ADHD brain thrives of.

More likely, I think it’s fear. Showing up for myself was a fun experiment last year… but this year, it feels like IF I show up and ask myself to stretch, I might actually grow and change is hard. My type A control freak inside is squirming… because ultimately everything about this year has screamed a lack of control.

From an unexpected, joyfully (and quickly) manifested pregnancy that has me on the path to meeting our 4th baby soon, to a house move, new courses and opportunities, healing work that I have delved into and research that has me continuously taking notes, feeling triggered, and requiring space from. My kids have kept me on my toes more than ever and friendships have evolved through heartbreak, joy and curiosity. I am genuinely in love with my life, and also feel like there’s a whirlwind going on, and I have to accept that none of it is within my control.

So committing to this, 40 days of writing… is within my control. And that is scary! And exhilarating.

Tonight; my ramble on commitment has lead me to this thought: When I commit to myself, I heal the spaces where my ancestors didn’t have the opportunity to show up for themselves in this way, and I pave new paths, create new neuropathways in my brain, and in small steps, create spaces for my children and those afterwards, to commit to themselves with more ease. I am doing this work slowly, one trembling, uneasy, curious baby step at a time.

I like the idea of that, because when baby’s start to walk, though they are bold and headstrong, they are also trembling… and committed. The intrinsic motivation of a little person taking their first steps is one of the most incredible things to see… doesn’t matter how much they mess it up, they keep coming back, and of course they do it.

If I consider my commitment to myself over the past 6 months like that; it’s kinder, more graceful… it’s been a lot of hesitant steps, backing away, and now I’m trying again.

Tomorrow, we’ll see what comes;

With love,

Xox Rohana

“Freeze” as a stress response to parenting

I wrote recently about 3 steps I use as a quick way that I try and move out of a ‘fight’ response when my kids trigger me, and I based my writing off of conversations with other parents too, creating essentially a mini strategy that is helpful moving away from fight and into a space of connection.

Since then however, almost as though the universe has been prompting me, I have found myself not reacting in anger or annoyance, as much as I have felt exhausted, unbothered and in a mood where I just want to say “do what you want then!” I suppose if my kids were older, or if I were a different parent, I would – but thankfully they are little and I am working hard to break away from old mainstream cycles of parenting.

So instead, I leaned in to my toolbox, resourced myself and now I’m choosing to write about it.

The freeze response is, in many ways a little bit hidden. It wasn’t until my oldest was nearly 6 that I understood it in the way I’m about to share; so if it feels new, don’t worry, it is!

‘Freeze’ is a survival response, and we know that when being threatened, if freezing is our body’s best survival strategy, then that’s what we’ll do. It isn’t a choice… because ultimately, our body’s are far quicker at making decision than our minds can catch up with.

However, in parenting, especially parenting little ones (and I’m guessing teenagers too!), when we move into a freeze response, it’s often masked as a feeling of apathy or exhaustion – the kind of response where your kid does something again and instead of getting angry or even upset, you move into the whatever, it doesn’t make a difference kid of mood.

It’s when I doom scrolling Instagram reels or the putting TV on just so that they’ll stop arguing… where the energy to do anything is zapped away.

Freeze is not a choice... in my experience, its often a sign of burnout.

However, like with fight, there are ways that can help move away from it. As parents, this isn’t a long term solution, and it doesn’t replace actually doing the work of healing and understanding why we feel like this in the first place, but, it can help in moment to moment parenting; where we need a quick fix until we can carve out some time to dig deeper.

How?

Well, the essential thing to understand here is that FIGHT is a sympathetic response to a trigger; where our bodies have decided that, in order to survive the threat, we need to fight our way out.

FREEZE is not like that, it’s a parasympathetic response. Often you’ll hear energy workers etc say that parasympathetic is good (which it can be) because it is our ‘rest and digest’ system, BUT that isn’t always the case; because in fact, the freeze response is an exaggerated rest response, in an attempt to survive whatever threat we perceive to exist. Think how an animal plays dead to avoid becoming prey; our bodies will perceive a threat, and make the decision to ‘play dead’ by becoming lethargic, apathetic or avoidant in order to survive.

So….

To get out of this, we need some activation. Which means, shaking, moving, dancing, getting motivated or, eliminating the perceived threat. Since the housework isn’t going to do itself, and dinner will still be uncooked after a doom scroll, elimination as a parent is probably not likely – our kids will still be shouting for us even if we can’t imagine what they could possibly need now.

Therefore, once we realize we are freezing, the next thing to do is get moving. Put some music on, do some dragon breathing or kapalabati (if safe to do so), shake or jump or, my personal favourite the past few weeks has been to find an easy dopamine hit. As my ADHD brain moves into freeze and I know that I need to get out, I’ve found that having a quick fix of dopamine is a real help. Snacks are a winner. Music absolutely. AND a small side project that brings joy with only a small amount of effort or time – for me this has been working through some photography edits. Anything that won’t be a hyperfocus but brings joy works brilliantly.

Ultimately, freeze is a sign of taking on too much, and being overwhelmed. As a neurodivergent human, this is something I didn’t understand affected me more until I learned that it actually does. So if you are ND then solidarity! And if you’re not, then that doesn’t make your overwhelm any less valid, it literally just means you’ll find it in different spaces or be able to tackle it with the same or different tools.

It isn’t a sign that we are failing.

It isn’t a sign that life is too hard.

It isn’t a sign that we can’t cope.

It is a survival response to our situation, and a nudge from our body (and the universe) that something probably needs to change for us to thrive.

With spring here, Ostara this week and the earth in the northern hemisphere beginning to bloom, I encourage you to walk outside with bare feet on the earth… grounding into a bigger energy is something that I deeply appreciate and have leaned on a lot recently. Finding a practice that brings joy; and breathing outside with no goal other than to just exist for a few minutes. Walks at the beach or somewhere with water are also a firm favourite.

If you’re in freeze, I see you. It won’t last forever.

With love,

Rohana x

3 steps to moving away from ‘Fight’ When our children trigger us

The word trigger is a buzzword on social media, so forgive me for using it here. Being triggered isn’t something to take lightly, and in various contexts, can be a life saving mechanism of the body. For me, here I use it because the word expresses the causal factor to starts the chain reaction from an event with our children, to the point where we react somatically. It is the first domino in the line … that often, though not always, causes a rupture in our relationship (this goes for parent and child, friends, siblings and even partners; all in their own similar and unique ways).

Before I carry on; I’d highlight that ‘Fight’ is only 1 of the responses that can occur; and in a series of writings this month, I will be covering the other 3 as well.

Picture this: you’re playing with your kid, they’re having fun, you’re relaxed, the atmosphere is easeful. And then, they make a noise, or do something to hurt a sibling/toy or break a house rule. It activates you – you’re body goes from peaceful and playful into anger. The action or sound is the first domino, and your anger is one of the next. Your anger is BIG, you might not say anything, or you might shout ‘no’ , look at them in angry way or do something like turn away – they sense the change in energy and they mirror it… and then you’re both angry, both upset, and after a shout or stomp their end, maybe even yours, you walk away… angry and puzzled at how something so minor became such an issue.

Your whole body is tense. Your nervous system is right up there in anger… your sweet little child, in that moment became a threat, and your ‘fight’ mode has been well and truly activated.

It isn’t because you want it to be, but rather because ‘fight’ is a body response to threat, and our brains cannot really tell the difference between actual threat and perceived threat. Add on probably years of messages compounded into our subconscious about what is okay and not, and our habitual response is to get angry and want to fight out of the situation.

Luckily toddlers are graceful, and we can absolutely rewire patterns that mean we change the way we react. Understanding where ‘fight’ shows up in our bodies, and acknowledging it is the first step.

For me, when I get mad (often when my kids fight with each other and rough play moves to attempts at intentional injury) I feel it in my hands and my throat. I want to shout, my belly tenses and my hands tingle. It is a sign that I am out of my rational brain and have moved into my amygdala, the primal response part of my brain, and my body is in survival.

When I fight, I yell. I shout and in my body have my own little temper tantrum… something I have actively worked on understanding, healing and changing for the past 4 years.

Before I understood this, my kids felt like little monsters when this happened. I couldn’t understand why but I would feel so overwhelmed and wonder how they were the same child… sometimes I fall back into this but its rare now; usually even in my anger I can see they are doing their best and the first domino could have been prevented if xyz had changed. So after the rupture, we tell a story, and try and figure out what needed changing; if I should have stepped in sooner or if we needed to redirect etc.

So if step 1 is finding ‘fight’ in our body, then what comes next?

Step 2, is accepting it. Easier said than done, but it truly is essential. Anger is our somatic experience of boundaries being crossed or pushed. It is the way our bodies are communicating with us, well before we have fully processed what the first domino was. When we accept it, we dissipate some of the energetic charge it holds. We feel it, allow it, and then, as if by magic, being seen/felt/acknowledged, the heaviness lifts and we can change it.

That’s not to say don’t ever go back, feel and heal as needed, but in the moment, when we want to avoid major ruptures, or just know that now is not the time to explode because reacting in an adrenal response isn’t really the ideal form of parenting (unless it is because there is actual danger – in which case, ABSOLUTELY react! Get your kid out the road, away from the ledge or whatever other danger may be present) and moving into a grounded space is a band aid, but it won’t address the root of the problem. To do this, requires deeper, intentional work, not an in the moment kind of medicine. The bigger healing comes in many forms, and though I have my preferences, there is no ‘right way’.

Step 3 then, is MOVE. Make our bodies shake, laugh, dance, get out the room, squat down to a toddler/child level, bounce and then look at them to listen; stretch upwards and take breaths to feel your chest expanding as much as is comfortable, or, do anything that allows movement. Sometimes this means saying out loud “wow, i have some angry energy, I need to shake it out, can you help me?” which is especially effective with younger kids because it both affirms that it isn’t their fault, and it gets them learning how we can healthily change the tone of a conversation. I don’t have a 1 size fits all, but movement is my tried, tested and absolute favourite way to change energy away from anger and fight, into a space where we can build connection, repair if needed and work through whatever boundaries need to be asserted.

On a good day, I use this without even thinking, making a game or changing the play to include more movement for everyone. On a harder day, it takes intentional pause, feeling the feelings, saying sorry for yelling and making a choice to walk, move and make changes to whatever is going on. A bonus is getting outside in the sunshine if its available, or taking a bundled up walk to find something cool – again, way easier with younger kids, but not impossible with older ones; a walk to pick up a favourite snack, dinner ingredient or catch some pokemon or whatever thing they are into works as well.

And that’s it, 1, 2, 3. They are simple. They are accessible. They are also really hard to remember in the moment, and it takes practice (just like life).

Raising Humans ~ A poem


My child is not a toy
Or a blank slate to be molded
My child is not bad
Or naughty to be scolded

His sister isn’t mean
Her brother isn’t rough

They’re humans learning to live
And life can be tough

We criticise children
Without giving them their dues.
Children are among the most oppressed
Of our society – though it’s not news.

We don’t respect them
We constantly correct them
We tell them to stop, don’t talk
We make them walk
Even when their tired

Our children’s childhoods
Are endangered
And it’s definitely our fault
Somehow we’ve forgotten
We’re raising humans
And so we default,
To old age tactics of shame and blame.
To bribery and tears.
We seem to think our children won’t be scarred,
By us belittling their fears.

My children are not blank slates
Or performing monkeys doing tricks
And neither are yours
Or yours.
Or yours.
They’re humans
And raising them is politics.


Connection, Causal Comments and Costumes of our Life

I wrote this more than a year ago … for some reason, I thought it wasn’t right to share at the time. Perhaps because I felt raw from the day, or perhaps because I got busy … either way, I’m sharing it now. Because as I read it back, I realised just how much I needed my own words today… and I am so immensely grateful that I have this space to write.

With love, from a past version of myself xox

” I was on the bus today, and of course, bus trips mean lots of people. Always opinions, some lovely, others not; but more recently, as I’ve been building up to solo trips with the kids again in the better weather, with them all being older, and E, now 20 months having lots more opinions about the buggy; I’ve thought about how we use the time travelling to connect.

Today, we played I-spy, our version of the game, using colours instead of phonics, and sometimes throwing in the odd shape or physical reference like ‘tall’ or ‘wide’ instead. The kids sat, and looked around, and E started to whine because he was strapped into the buggy. Luckily, another mum got on, and the connection between him and her daughter began, until he fell asleep!

We (mums) chat for a while, talking about kids and coping; she shared some wisdoms about being a mum of 7, and I shared some frustrations about villageless parenting. We connected – over the shared experience of splitting ourselves into multiple pieces, stretching so our children could have parts of us, and simultaneously loving the chance and choice to do this, and being exhausted by it. I told her I thought her family must be beautiful, and I admired her honesty. She told me that it gets easier and harder, affirming that no choice is right, but that we do what we can with the knowledge we have.

A brief, meaningful chat, interrupted by a gentleman getting on the bus and sitting down adjacent to my older 2. “you’ve got your hands full” he said gruffly to me.

“Oh I really do” I replied. “Full of love with my amazing children”.

“Uh, not all the time I bet” was his response!

The other mum looked at me and we shared a moment of horror at the roughness in his voice.

“They really are amazing” I told him. It was our stop. We left.

And once again, I thought about connections. Some positive, some negative, all, inevitably will have an impact on our energy fields. Why do some people feel so harshly about children? Why do they judge when there is more than 1? What did he gain? What was so triggering for him? I wondered aloud a little, with the general cautionary calls to my kids about the road. I thought about how hard it might be for some people to see kids being so free and confident, when they might have never been given the chance to be so.

I wondered how my children felt. Though they know we’ve had these comments and conversations before, so they said they were hardly ruffled, more interested in the scrap metal yard instead. But how does this impact children? How do we make them feel when we comment about how hard they are constantly?

What message do we send when we say, I’ve had enough of you? Because in most instances they never get to say that to us.

Thinking about my children, and the brief beautiful encounter with this lady, I remembered a quote I’d read in an email this week by Rupaul that “You’re born naked and the rest is drag”.

Kindness costs nothing.

The appearances we choose every day impact every single human around us. We are born naked, and needing others to survive… as we grow we create costumes for ourselves every season of life… and yet, when we die, we return to the earth .. dust. The short space of time in between, in the costumes we choose may be brief, but it is so powerful.

The lady on the bus today gave me hope… and it was thanks to her, that though the gentleman’s words stung, I could brush them away, and hold my babies close. A year ago, I might have been brought to tears (probably would have!). Thank you, whoever you are. I am grateful.”

That’s it.

That’s the post. A short meeting that left a big impact.

Whatever your day looks like. Wherever you are in the world. I hope you know this:

You are loved. You are important. You are so much more than enough.