family

Hard Seasons of Parenting

| Rohana Aisha Dewfall

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 30 – 3am Thought Spiral

| Rohana Aisha Dewfall

Last night I thought I’d missed something, when I checked and realised I’d already written for the day. It felt like a big win, becauee I had been organised. The reality was I seized the moment, and I’m so glad I did.

I’m half doing the same now, it’s very early hours, and I’m listening to babies snore; I got up for a wee and have been tossing around, so thought, “what’s the time?” and landed here.

In many ways I suppose I’m already intimately familiar with the early hours, 3 and 4am particularly. I’m not exactly getting reacquainted since my kids are often up needed cuddles or to change position, go toilet or even have a snack – though this is rarely. However, I know in the coming weeks I’ll be far more likely to see these hours with leaky breasts and nappy changing… and I’ll be experiencing the darkness of not quite morning in whole new ways.

It’s day 30 now, and I’m genuinely considering joining a container where for 7 weeks there’ll be daily prompts, knowing full well I cannot 100% guarantee I’ll even have 2 of those 7… but also knowing that I might have nearly all, and it’s something I’ve been looking at for over a year. If I do, I’ll have the last 10 days of this 40 day practice, alongside packing and new writing prompts… and I keep thinking how exciting it is. Other voices (who I deeply respect, value and have asked opinions of) have concerns that I’m not resting enough. I probably am not, but that’s more based on having 3 kids under 7 and a 10 month old labrador so I am still gallivanting on adventures regularly through the week.

I don’t want to open the door of relying on technology to fill gaps just yet, because I know in the early days of new baby, I will lean on tablets and TV more; something I’m entirely at home with, becauee honouring a restful period of postpartum means I want to spend many of my first days with baby in bed, and that also means cuddles, books, screens and space to hold my older ones.

For the first time preparing for a baby, I feel wholly content; I feel confident, and I am calling in seamless transitions. This past year of practices has changed so much for me, I cannot put into words just how much has shifted.

Last year, in early 2023 the thought of having another baby terrified me to the point of desperation. Now, 18 months later, it feels like doors have opened wide, I’ve cried more and shed many many layers in healthy ways, and I’m new.

An incredible creator I follow called Rebecca Oakiah says pregnancy is the gestation of the mother and it feels so absolutely true. I’ve learning so much from her and various other birthkeepers since K was born. I’m inspired by them all, and more confident in my own work and sharing than I could have imagined I’d be.

Truthfully I didn’t do my Doula training because I wanted to work in birth. I did it because I wanted to be empowered after Ps birth, so that when I had A, I wasn’t left processing trauma and trying to figure out life with a newborn. I knew Hs job would demand a lot, and I was resourcing myself in the way I knew how – learning from people who’d been there before me.

Now I look back and see these life events were catalysing me towards a deeper calling. I was turning to the wise women, and looking further than my village because I knew that in order to learn and heal and hold others, I needed to be held myself. I found wisdom in spaces and I have for the last 5 years inhaled it all…

Before P I thought learning looked a certain way, through the trajectory of school and uni, I planned a masters and career and all the ‘normal’ path kind of things. I thought that’s what I should do, and ought to do.

Even after he was born it was still my plan… though I’d begun to spiral away a little. Meeting other women in a retreat while I held him in my womb, and hearing their wisdoms. That was one the transitionary stages for me. Those women, my beautiful mother included, held a blessing for me, crested a web of well wishes and sat in circle with me.

I long for the day where I can sit in circle with women again. It is healing.

Tracking these experiences back I’m so aware of how blessed I’ve been, and I can see, though P was a surprise baby, his entrance to the world was the most powerful thing. I didn’t understand manifestation or anything back then, but I manifested him … just as, in other ways, I have all my children. I have in each circumstance send out some energy into the universe, not even consciously at the time, calling in these babies, these experiences, these path changes.

Now, at 4am, as I spiral into the memories of it all, I feel like there is an unfolding and awakening.

I am meant to be here, holding this baby. I am meant to be on this path, working with others who want to do the same. I may not be ready to support a birth and capture it (though I am in my heart) becauee my capacity is filled with the abundance and attendance to my own children right now, but I am able to offer support in every ripple I create.

It isn’t about fighting the system, which it felt like with K.

It isn’t about being seen and heard loudly like it felt with A.

It isn’t about being quiet and submissive or apologetic like it felt with P.

It is about standing with my feet on the earth, rooting down and being supported by the land. Land that I stand on where ancestors have moved across, land that I cannot reach, where my ancestors were rooted. It isn’t about anyone else… its me, my body, my baby, my family.

H and I said when I turned 27 that every year I step into my identity as a witch a little more. Witch meaning wise woman. Witch meaning skilled medicine woman. Witch meaning someone connected to the energy around her. The word Witch holds so much energy… it was used for so much harm, but truly, I love the saying that we are the granddaughters of the witches they couldn’t burn. I know it’s more complicated but this sentiment resonates. I am more confident in my radicalness every year… and I have little concern that it turns people away.

It also brings people here.

Anyway, it’s 5am, the kids aren’t going to let me sleep in and we’ve got adventuring planned for the day. So, for now, I’m signing off. This has been the most interesting few hours to write.

If you’ve stuck with me through it all, and foe the past 30 days, I’m honoured. If you’re just joining, welcome.

Thank you for reading,

With love, Rohana x

Day 13 : Thoughts on our connection

| Rohana Aisha Dewfall

The other day I wore my trousers from my trip to Ghana when I was 17, and I thought about my mum and how I miss her.

Then, I wore a hairband that my friend recently gifted me and thought of her and our coffee date conversations.

I ate a bagel and my husband came to mind, because there was a point where the kids associated bagels with daddy, and it was one of the few things I could convince them to eat.

Tonight I made a salad, and thought about my stay at grandparents house when I was 16, and how I watched the way they loved each other after decades… before I really understood how much work a relationship needs to get there.

I said goodbye to my dad, and thought about how grateful I am that he exists.

And I wrote some bits down… in-between the dishes and calls for mummy.

When I think about these things as  individual moments, they’re just parts of our day and life… but then, piecing them together, the picture changes. We are shaped by the experiences we have, but more than that, the legacy of those who we love, or even those we don’t, stays with us, every single interaction stored somewhere… ready to be drawn on when needed.

The legacy of my grandparents is far bigger than making salad with me one summer, and yet, it’s there… as part of their story interwoven with mine.

The legacy of my mother, linked to our trip to Ghana, triggered by my bright yellow trousers.

The story of my friendship, held in part, in a hairband that makes it more than just a piece of cloth.

The growth of my children, who love a daddy bagel but no longer demand one as regularly as they once did.

That lady at the park

The old man on the school run

The bus driver who waved to my kids as he drove past

The sweet little boy who doubled back to ask my son a question

The neighbour who drives us places to let our dogs run and play

Every person we’ve bumped into … every single random comment from a stranger… every single interaction we’ve ever had. Every. Single. One. All stored.

It makes me think about my kids, and their sponge brains… and how easy it is for them to interpret all these things in such core ways.

I used to hate when people would comment “ahh you’ve got your hands full” in front of my kids, no matter what a mess we looked like! Then I realised, rather than pretend like it hadn’t happened, I had the power to change that interaction… and so I started saying to my kids “look my hands ARE so full!” while I held them all and fumbled… “and so is my heart” I’d end with. It made a huge difference.

When I look at our lives, interwoven link this, I am filled with hope and sadness and rage at the world. I am learning, in new ways that rather than push those away or just pick one, that I CAN sit with all of these at once, and that it’s okay to just feel them and do nothing yet. That’ll come.

Until tomorrow,

With love, Rohana x

Day 12 – minibeasts, bubbles and lots of play

| Rohana Aisha Dewfall

This is definitely one of my favourite times of the year, where there is just so much to see and find outdoors, and the kids genuinely just want to be out exploring; I’ve ordered them some portable mini microscopes and I cannot wait to see what they discover! It’s been mini-beast hunting, bubble catching, climbing on everything and a generally joyful, curious mood the past few days.

Today, they were tired, but after an intense week, I didn’t expect much else. I thought we’d push a bit today and get into city center for a little more exploring; but they had other ideas and it was a much needed slow start, followed by outdoor fun and a playdate this evening. Double fun was that our puppy Nyx got a playdate with her buddy too, and spent a couple hours running around the garden with him (theirs, not ours!)

It’ll be the first weekend in a long time where H (the kids dad) won’t be home because he’s staying on base for some much needed recharge. It’s something that when it came up this week with friends got funny looks; but actually as we prep for our house move and baby, is something that I am genuinely super glad he’s managed to block off. In the past, I’d probably have thought it wasn’t fair, but we’ve both worked really hard to see what the other needs, and to support each other to meet those needs, as much as possible with 3 kids and a puppy. Last weekend, he drove all of us for nearly 5 hours (each way) just so that I didn’t have to take the train and have long layovers; knowing that too many hours on my feet and I’m getting really exhausted. He took the kids to soft play and did all the parenting things that you’d expect; except… I don’t drive, so he also took on ALL the travelling, and had to get back to Portsmouth as well.

My standards are high, and we often as a couple talk about how we hold each other to high standards as parents, and in our relationship; because we push each other without pressuring each other… something that has taken YEARS to figure out a balance with, and isn’t exactly a one way works every time kind of deal. We absolutely mess up a lot, but ultimately, choosing to grow together and in our own personal lives has meant doing the work and showing up in the best ways we know how. It’s interesting though, as I think about this; because we’ve had conversations over the past year about how, if I suggest areas to work on, he’ll shut them down… and vice versa… but then, in a roundabout way, we both end up with similar themes, working in our own way through our own stuff.

The exception here is probably deschooling ourselves, which I periodically dive deeper into, and this year at least, hasn’t come up as necessary for him. That said, once we live together through the whole week again, I think things will change, especially while we wait for potential spaces for K and A, and dive deeper into home educating P, led by him, and immersing ourselves in bigger projects as we go. We’ll also have baby dragon so navigating postpartum is going to an interesting journey for us both/all.

Previously, I’ve adopted the attitude of ‘just keep going’ and I have burnt out BIG time! This time, we are honouring the sacredness of it, slowing riiiigggghhhtttt down and I’m choosing to have a laying in period. Admittedly, I’m not sure how this is going to work with 3 active kids, but the goal is there and mentally, I know if I prep for as much rest as possible, then I’ll honour it far more than if I just try to wing it. I am teaching postpartum support in a couple of weeks and once again, as I look through my materials, I’m getting excited! It is such an incredible time.

Today 6 years ago, I handed in my dissertation… I was 8 months postpartum for the first time then. I don’t remember much about that version of myself most days, but I am grateful for her. I didn’t do the laying in period, or honour myself fully back then… though it was slower than the 2nd and 3rd time round for sure! Looking back on the rollercoaster ride, I often forget just how far we’ve come, but it is pretty damn remarkable given that I thought at one point I’d never manage to finish uni having P.

Tonight, my dads last night here, P has cuddled up and said he wants to have a sleepover downstairs with grandpa; so audiobook on, delta waves playing in the background, he’s fidgeting as he listens…. and I’m thinking about all the weeks where my dad spent his time with me in the UK, looking after P so I could write and finish assignments. So much has changed, but the closeness they have is as strong as ever. We are very very blessed.

Anyway, goodnight for now, thanks for reading,

With love, Rohana x

Day 11 – Sunshine, smiles and some midnight musings.

| Rohana Aisha Dewfall

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 9 – Joy, Frustration and love

| Rohana Aisha Dewfall

Day 9, I’ve found myself avoiding this for an hour; and I absolutely find myself in a sense of freeze over a areas that are coming up in life. I have been so focused on getting to the next thing, and now, I’ve got a few weeks of limbo, where I can do what I ‘want’ and I am stuck…

The good thing is, though yes I feel stuck in my own personal goals, my chosen response is to throw myself even more deeply into finding spaces of joy with my kids. Previously, I’ve ended up in this pattern and got really frustrated at them, at myself, and at life, and often everyone ends up having a rubbish time. I saw this starting yesterday and for the first time, I’ve really managed to tune in and choose differently. So today has been filled with joy, play, time with friends at the park and cuddles to connect before bed. Tomorrow I have intentions for special time with the boys, and I’ll create a window for A after preschool. I am choosing to connect, because I asked a lot of them this weekend driving for my workshop; and I continue to ask a lot of them as we get ready for our house move.

This doesn’t mean they are doing anything specific or extra, but it does mean that they know moving is happening, they know a sibling will arrive soon after our move, and they know that lots is going to change soon. Except, soon actually feels ages away, because to their brains, time doesn’t really exist yet. So lots is happening, and I’m finding pockets of joy and bliss, helped by the sunshine, as well as moments to affirm that they are loved, safe and wanted. This means when we do have ruptures, I can focus on repair and not wallow in guilt or worry, knowing that actually, we are getting really good at understanding each other, and how we need to work through stuff.

Today I had a chat about the way I’ve taught the kids energy fields; and how the energy we send out, returns to us. A friend and I spoke about how so much of what we teach our kids, especially around conflict resolution, bodily autonomy and for me, leaning in to somatic practices and intuition, is stuff that we didn’t have language for as kids. I know from my own experiences that though I grew up practicing yoga and having an understanding of grounding in my body; it hasn’t been until my 20s with my own kids that I have truly understood what that meant.

This generation though, I hadn’t realised has been nicknamed generation alpha; as the first generation of kids born to the conscious parenting movement, where more and more they are allowed to feel their feelings and figure things out. I actually shut A down the other day, and realised a while afterwards that I’d taken the chance to find her own way through the feelings away. It hasn’t come up again, but when it does, it’ll be something I address with her. I can imagine it was so frustrating for her to hear me say I couldn’t cope with the noise of her crying… which, in the moment was true for me, but nonetheless, a bitter bitter pill for her who needed comfort.

We can’t always get it right though, and I know in the longer run, that moment won’t be the only one I have to hold space for her, so next time will be different.

We do the best we can with the resources we have.

I had more thoughts but that feels like a good space to end for tonight. Until tomorrow, thanks for reading!

With love,

Rohana x

Day 7

| Rohana Aisha Dewfall

Home. Though it won’t be for much longer. It’s bittersweet, because we have some wonderful relationships here, and yet, I met an old friend who asked about it today and I heard myself saying, I am so ready for the change. I am ready to give my kids a new start, and ready for new adventures, new spaces to explore, and new memories to be made.

Home after a day trip away. Home to boxes, home to play, home to our safe space of blankets and cuddles, and rest.

We said goodbye to H who drove back to work for the week, and I took the kids to the park; with promises of a stop of the pub for chips and some time at the playpark in the pub garden. Unfortunately, the garden area was shut for renovations and so I had the uncomfortable experience of breaking my promise to the kids – who didn’t want chips if they couldn’t slide and climb too – and consoling K, who’s just over 2 and a half years old now, and very vocal when he feels upset or let down. It wasn’t fun. Though heading back to the smaller park and getting snacks helped, it brought up conversations about being disappointed, feeling like things aren’t fair, and not understanding why we can’t always do what we want. Life lessons from a failed pub park outing… entirely unintentional but serving a purpose nonetheless.

Promises and kids are such an interesting topic. Bluey covers it so well in the promises episode, and though there’s lots of comedy, it really has struck a cord with my kids so when we talk about promises, they bring it up. That said, today was a bit different, because, bar K who was just upset, the older 2 understood that it wasn’t me breaking a promise on purpose, and that actually, it was a situation out of my control. A said to K afterwards, “I am sad too, I wanted to play there, but we can go another day” … and of course, coming from his sister, K understood that better than my attempts to explain or empathise with him. Kids do just get it don’t they?

P mostly just reverted into his game world, and the rest of the day went relatively smoothly actually, other than the increasingly late bedtime they have got comfortable with, that leaves me typing at 8 minutes to midnight! I don’t mind though, later bedtime means later waking, and I find they sleep more deeply like that, so though it isn’t always possible, I find it quite ideal. I’ll get up and have a while to myself in the morning, and my days always go better when I manage that! P is still up, watching The Green Planet as his way of calming to sleep. We haven’t had a lot of cuddles today because he’s been in his head playing contently, and though I don’t often just leave him to it entirely, today he’s given me the impression that he wanted some space. Tomorrow I’ll check back in a little deeper, and make sure we can do something together for a short while.

There’s often a kind of guilt surrounding that, when I leave him to play or don’t actively seek out time together; because I know I am stretched on time, and adding baby dragon will stretch us even further. Yet, the guilt has changed this past year… there is more grace and acceptance now. Perhaps as he’s got older, I feel more connected to him when we do play, and I adore listening to him tell me about things he knows to build his confidence. This morning he told me lots about Mount Kilimanjaro, after asking me to google what the word actually means. He has become fascinated with words recently, so I am curious to see where this leads. Either way, it was fun, and though we haven’t had lots of physical cuddly connection, we have had some. That’s enough today. I remind myself that what will be will be; and as I do, I look at my tattoo and think about how I didn’t realise just how powerful it would be when I chose it.

Anyway, for tonight that’s my snapshot of life. I have some plans to share intentions and dreams, and my birthing plan in the coming days; but I won’t make any promises, because if I learned anything today, it’s that sometimes things aren’t in my control.

I’ll see you tomorrow,

With love,

R x

Day 4

| Rohana Aisha Dewfall

I suppose technically it’s day 5, but the day is still going for me, and my kiddo’s didn’t sleep until nearly midnight tonight. We had plans to go out, go to the library cafe and get some air – but, as most plans with any pressure, things went a little haywire at home.

We had some real moments of dysregulation from everyone, and I found myself joining in the chaos instead of anchoring as a space for calm. Part of this may have been yet another phone call from the NHS informing me that I’ve had appointments made for me that I have no intention of attending, and have already spoken to a real human about; added on to the sore nose from K’s headbutts and the kids grumping over breakfast options, it’s no surprise I wasn’t exactly the poster for gentle parenting today.

However, what I was was real. Authentic. Honest. I told them that I had a headache, and that it would be helpful if we could rest and read or cuddle for a bit. We attempted to play Simone Says – it did not work! We attempted some games of imaginary play – they did not work because each child wanted a different game. We attempted a dance it out party. When everything failed, I put a film on, and even that was a little bit of chaos because it was the wrong one. So chaos descended … and when everyone had had their cries and cuddles, we all came together, played fetch with the dog, and had snacks. Honestly, it sounds pretty okay writing it out, but there were a few moments in there where I thought “well fuck, I am done with today”.

But here I am, and we turned the day around. After the chaos and cries and cuddles, we played, we sang, we read a few books, and then K asked for bed. So he fell asleep and P was listening to his audiobook, and A decided she wanted to play stickers. In the end, P and A played while I pressed t-shirts, they helped and made games with the used vinyl and then got the crystals out. P took himself off to bed again and A asked if she could walk around the house with a candle for blessings and protection. We lit one and I followed her as she walked, telling me that the fire energy was protecting the house, and that when she’s an adult she’ll be able to light the candles with a lighter like me.

It has me thinking about repair, and about how, though yes I was deep in the midst of my lizard brain too today, having a practice that I can lean on helps bring me back. I apologized to P once we’d settled and said, even though yes I was upset and they were upset and everyone was shouting, it is ultimately my job to keep them safe, and they don’t deserve to be yelled at because my big feelings explode. His response, as ever was perfect “I knew you’d say sorry mummy, and it’s okay, we all went a bit crazy with our volcanoes but I still love you”.

They have so much grace. So much space for forgiveness. So much love.

Before A slept, we had a similar moment where she said “I am proud of us mummy, we got angry and sad and then went back to being friends”.

This is why I am so adamant that we can repair. It isn’t about never getting it wrong. It’s about being authentic, messing up and making up… and when we have days like this, where in some moments I worry that I’ve traumatized my kids and passed on or created negative beliefs, I also am given signs from them, and the universe that ultimately, we do the best we can with the resources we have. Today I ran out of spoons, and so did they… but we made more. We made up. And though yes, they might remember the moments of shouting and upset, all I can do is hope that the moments of repair are more impactful than the ones of rupture.

Tomorrow we are off on an adventure… tonight, I am grateful to be living this life.

With love,

Rohana x