Ages and Ages Hence...

I have been a mother now for five years come Monday.

I remember being very apprehensive about motherhood.  I always thought that the endless days spent at home attempting to entertain a small person (or several small people) would turn me into a drooling mess, unable to communicate effectively or coherently with other adults.  I thought that I would lose all ability to think critically about anything of an academic nature again.  I thought that people would stop valuing me for my intelligence and professional experience, and that I would become *just* a mum.

How has motherhood been? How has Mr Bede, 5 on Monday changed my life?

Well suffice to say I am not currently a drooling mess, unable to communicate with other adults... I am just as adept at the art of both spoken and written words as I was before the advent of Mr Bede... if anything more so... since having Bede I have given my first talk at a brunch for Christian Women... I have started a Masters Degree in Education (for which I am receiving marks beyond any in my previous academic endeavours, including my first HD)... I have proof-read and edited a Masters Thesis for a friend that received an HD grading... I have a few things to be proud of...

So in that sense, my life is little different.  My intellect is intact, and potentially more acute than it was.

But my life experiences?

My life experiences are vastly different to what they were...

Now I know the true horror of the toddler who hasn't napped.  I know how to wrestle a rolling baby into an all-in-one suit without scratching or breaking the bones of said baby.  I can breastfeed an infant whilst mediating a dispute between two other children, while making dinner.

Is it hard? Yes.  There are days where Mr Bede has stretched me to my breaking point.  And he hasn't even started.

It is very interesting to watch him grow up.  Five years is at the same time a very short but very long time.  He has gone from the flailing, crying infant dependent upon me for his every meal, to the flailing, running, jumping, shouting, train-imitating, Boy (and the capital is intentional.  He is SUCH a boy) who is still dependent upon me for his every meal but perhaps not in as physically immediate way these days...

We haven't even got to Homework Wars or the dark and shadowy realm of the Teenaged Years to come. He hasn't even gained a fraction of his arguing and negotiating ability... and if his current verbosity us anything to go by, we should be VERY worried.

He can and often does talk from sun up so bedtime without drawing breath, offering a running commentary on anything and everything, asking questions all the time... according to my parents, I was exactly the same.  He will talk to anyone he meets and makes friends easily with the person next in line, the kid on the swing, the old person at church... and even after a full day with lots of people will still ask when he is going to see more friends... again, a mini-me... He loves stories and being read to... he can basically recite whole books and chapters of Winnie the Pooh (a gift I think he gets from Daddy)...

He is and has always been a boy on the move. Able to crawl at 6 months and walk at the back end of ten months he could dribble a soccer ball at the tender age of 15 months.  Now he loves to practice his fast bowling, and his forehand with equal interest and equal skill.  He also loves to ride his bike for hours without stabilisers... This ia a boy who seems to have a natural affinity for sports.

This year Bede starts school up the road.  He has been at preschool several days a week for the past two years or so, and has matured so much in that time.  He leads the gang of boys in their games with balls, sand, trains, and all sorts of other things.  He can and does lead group discussions when he has the preschool 'friend' home to visit for a week and has to report back... leads the discussion, fields questions... you'd think he was born to be in the spotlight... a natural leader.

It will be fascinating to see how school affects him, how he fits in to the group... how he learns and grows and develops... It is an exciting time...

And yet... sometimes I wish he was that tiny baby again.  I would do so much differently.  But then wouldn't we all?  Wouldn't we all cuddle them more and stress about that skipped nap a bit less? Wouldn't we all shout less and rough house more? Tickle more?

Be less annoyed by his endearing quirks? Be less annoyed by his constant (and I do mean CONSTANT) chatter? Be less annoyed by his apparent inheritance of all my bad points?!

In some ways the next few years are going to be a lot about me learning to parent him better... learning to see his similarities to me and love them.  Learning to enjoy my own annoying traits... and learning how to teach him to manage them effectively...

Sleeping like a... baby?

So Mr Silas is six months old as of yesterday.  He is a truly lovely little boy... very affectionate and happy.  He is eating real food and drinking my milk like the others did.  He laughs when you play round-and-round-the-garden on his tummy like the others.

And just like the others, he is awakening my parental obsession: baby sleep (which of course morphs into toddler sleep as they get older).  Once again the quality of my day is becoming about how well he sleeps...or as in the case of this afternoon, doesn't sleep... Once again I am wracked with anxiety around whether he is getting enough sleep and guilt that I cannot just 'clear the decks' (like I could when Bede was little) and stay home to get him back into routine, or to let him recover from a particularly busy couple of days...

Today was the second big day in a row... the morning was fine... he woke up late after a night which included an extra feed... he slept on the way to our new church and was good during the service...he slept in the carrier on me for a while, had some lunch and stayed awake in the car... we thought we would put him down for a nap then given that he had been awake for almost three hours by then... but all our efforts were to no avail... the window of sleep had shut, and he got progressively more and more overtired...and less and less likely to just drop off... and more and more grumpy.  In the end, he was so over tired that dinner was a non-event (meaning that he screamed so much he wouldn't eat anything)... the usual calmer downer of the bath didn't work (he screamed through his bath...an almost unheard of occurrence)...and was asleep for the night by 6.15... an hour earlier than usual...

This reminds me why I am so protective of my kid's sleep... lack of it can derail a perfectly nice Sunday afternoon, and a perfectly happy relaxed mood... but it also reminds me that I need to learn  to lighten up a little more... something I thought might have happened by now...three kids later... 

But as Anne Shirley was known to say, "Tomorrow is fresh with no mistakes in it"... or in my case...no skipped naps in it...yet.