Category Archives: LearnerMother

On small steps with my biggest boy

Family, LearnerMother, , ,

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One of my clearest memories from having my firstborn was how utterly perplexed he seemed to be with the world in which he found himself.

Completely exhausted from labour, and terrified that I would fall asleep and suffocate him, I had put him in the little crib thing next to me and held my breath, expecting a roar of protest. Well the roar never came – and in fact, he continued to be the most placid baby I’d ever come across. But in place of the roar, was a little face looking around so confused, so worried almost, that I wished I could have popped him safely back inside me for a few more weeks till he felt ready to face us all.

That sense of not being in the right place has stayed with my biggest boy. Even in his happiest moments, he has never been completely carefree. He worries about all sorts of things – most of all about whether anyone likes him. Achingly like me as a child, he is desperate to fit in and be one of the gang, but doesn’t really know how to do it. When I watch him on the school yard in the mornings, I have sometimes felt physical pain in my gut for him as I see him approach groups only to be ignored – and then to start acting the fool to get attention, and of course isolating himself further. In the past I’ve been pretty pro-active about organising playdates for him, but over the last year or so – at his request – these have tapered off.

But just these last few weeks it feels as if there is a small, but significant change in the air. He seems more confident in himself, and his thoughts and feelings. He is definitely playing more with a wider group of friends in the playground, and in the last 2 weeks has had playdates with 2 different friends – at his instigation! – and has invited another friend to sleep over on the last day of term. He’s stayed off the ‘concern list’ all year at school, and his teacher said again at parents evening how far he has come this year.

None of that really matters to me – I would slay dragons for him as he is, however he is. But seeing him grow into himself a little, and become more comfortable in his own skin, is a lovely way to start the Spring, for all of us – but most of all for him. Looking forward to more small steps, my biggest boy! x

Linking up to Magic Moments – why not link up too?


On number cuddles

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Me: ‘How many cuddles do you want tonight?’

The 3yo: ‘Three. I want three.’

Me: ‘Ok – ready – one, two, three’ (each accompanied by a squeezy cuddle)

The 3yo: ‘Now I want three in Raeg’ (yn Gymraeg/in Welsh)

Me: ‘ok, wyt ti’n barod? Un, dau, tri’ (each accompanied by, er, a Welsh squeezy cuddle)

The 3yo: ‘Can I have my kiss please’

Me: kiss

The 3yo ‘Can you get out of my bed now, I want to go to sleep’*

Number cuddles are exactly the sort of thing that I want to keep this blog for. Those special little things that come into being, nobody knows how, and are then part of life until, one day, you suddenly realise that it’s been quite a while since number cuddles made an appearance, and sure enough, if you mention them to your child you’ll get a withering look and a ‘no Mum, I grew out of that a LONG time ago’.

And then, unless something pops up to remind you, those little traditions disappear into the ether of family living. So I’m going to try and record them here – and one day, when they’ve all grown up and I’m wondering where the years have gone, I’ll be able to look back and remember the lovely little things that were part of our life.

🙂

*yep, that’s what he says – no messing with him – when he says cuddle time is over, it’s over!

I’m linking up with The Oliver’s Madhouse lovely Magic Moments – pop along and have a read, it’ll warm your cockles!


On the one in the middle

Family, LearnerMother

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I always thought I’d have 4 children. But things rarely work out to plan – for a start, I thought I’d be a much younger mother; I also thought I’d be quite a lot better at it than I actually am. So three children it is – and I count my blessings every day, though I’m not sure that my kids do :/

Of course, three kids means there’s one in the middle. I have a boy-girl-boy sandwich, and I’m really glad that’s the way it’s worked out – it means my beautiful girl will always have a special place. She’s not the eldest, she’s not the youngest, but she is the only girl.

That thing about middle children though – it’s always there, nagging at the back of my mind. What if she doesn’t feel special enough? What if she feels her needs are eclipsed by the one who’ll always be the firstborn, and the one who’ll always be the baby?

At this point I’d like to be able to offer up some wisdom, some wonderful tips for how to deal with the middle child thing, possibly a smug example of how MY middle child will be the best adjusted in the world, ever.

But – the awful truth is, no matter how hard I try, I know that she does miss out. I know that I expect her to fall in as one of the ‘little ones’ when it’s time for an early night because I’m knackered, yet when it suits me, she becomes one of the ‘big ones’, expected to dress and clean teeth and not play hide and seek because it’s a school morning, dammit, and can’t you see I’m trying to get the baby ready. I know that she does not get the fuss the eldest one did on reaching those special milestones, because three growing kids make everything so much more crowded and busy and noisy. And I know that while the youngest will probably get even less attention for his achievements 3rd time round, I also know that being the baby of the family probably more than makes up for it.

But my beautiful, special girl just sails on, unaware of my guilt, accepting of her place in the family, and happily embracing all that life throws at her. Her confidence in herself and in dealing with social situations is enviable, and lovely to watch. And I wonder if there are also benefits to being the one in the middle, that we don’t hear so much about. I hope so.

Time will tell, I suppose. But in the meantime, my lovely little girl, my only daughter, I promise to try harder to make sure you know, every day, how special you are. X