raising kids

#Mumlife isn’t easy…

| Rohana Aisha Dewfall

Finding inspiration to write is not always easy, not is it easy to find time when a good idea hits. These past couple of weeks I have had several “I could do a blog post about that” moments, but inevitably the time passes and I haven’t managed to open up my laptop. Add on to that the fact that TP is extremely possessive of my phone when it is out, these moments pass.

Thinking about that though, about how fleeting moments are, and about how quickly time slips away, is itself, something to share. Recently this has come up a lot for me; the hours and days we wish away. At 27 weeks pregnant now, with a 25 month old, I will be the first to admit that I take a lot of it for granted. I ‘just know’ that tomorrow we can make up for today, or that after nap-time we can do something fun, or that the weather will be better next week for us to go out walking more. I assume that I will continue to be able to run around after my son, and pick him up, throw him around and let him ride ‘monkey’ on my back down the stairs. He sits on my belly and we joke he is sitting on his sister as he climbs onto my shoulders.

On the other side of it though, are the long hours where I thank god and the BBC for Mr Tumble and let TP sit through many, many episodes just so I can eat and cook and do the washing and check my email and maybe if I’m lucky go to the loo before he gets up and demands attention. There are 5am starts and 10pm bedtimes, the food strikes or tantrums for anything other than marshmallows, the milk hunger to the point my nipples feel they might fall off, and the hitting and biting that is his current method of expressing upset and anger. These are moments that I want to pass quickly, because staying present and accepting is hard, it’s easier to wish the hour away and want to ‘move on’ to the next thing on our schedule.

Yet these are also the moments I think back on with a wry smile, because the cuddles and healing that happen after are often the best hugs and cutest conversations. So why do I wish them away?

Because I am tired.

Because I am embarrassed.

Because they make me feel like I am raising a ‘trouble’ child.

Because accepting and dealing with the harder minutes is not easy. Parenthood is not easy.

But it is worth it.

A Childhood Memory

| Rohana Aisha Dewfall

Recently a friend asked me to think back to one childhood memory that stood out. No thinking, just do it.

I urge you try.

What did you come up with?

Was it something Happy? Exciting? Sad? Angry? Shameful?

My memory was a happy one, one that brought a smile to my lips. This was actually the reason my friend had asked to me to think back, to remind me that even though life seems hard sometimes, overall, my life has been pretty damn amazing.

It got me thinking about how much our childhood influences the way we raise our children. If you had a perfectly happy childhood, you try and replicate the same for your kids. Similarly, studies suggest that people who were raised in unhappy households tend to pass on this cycle to their children. Most of us are somewhere in the middle, with good bits and bad bits; with the hope that the good outweighs the bad, the happiness is prominent than the sadness.

But, as Alfie Kohn points out:

To get better at the craft of raising children, we need to be open to seeing what’s unpleasant in order to evaluate what our parents did right and where we might be able to improve on their approach.

We learn from the way we were parented and pass it on, or we take what we have learned and adapt it.

My memory was catching butterflies. This is what I wrote when I thought about it: 

We are walking around a field of sorts, it is not green, rather yellow-ish because of the warmth. It’s the 4 of us, with Sid and I holding nets and jars, I think they are empty at the moment; we are looking for butterflies. It’s a family outing. I remember feeling happy. 

Next thing I remember is the fascination of watching a butterfly, inside the jar we have, the one that is meant to be especially designed for them – now that I am older, I highly doubt this, but I remember believing it. The butterfly is sitting on a twig or something we have but inside the jar, it is colourful and beautiful. We admire it, and then let it go. it flies away and we keep walking.

This is one of my favourite memories, and I am sure it has very little to do with the butterflies and a lot to do with the fact it was a family trip. We did a lot of them and even though I know we squabbled, and were hungry or tired or both, I don’t remember those bits. The bits that stick are the feelings of warmth, of excitement and of joy; they are the kind of thing I want to pass on to my child. We learn from our parents and we better our own parenting from them; I’m pretty sure if we do that, then generations get better and we raise good people to keep the world running.

Thanks for reading,

Xoxo

R