autumn walks

Puddle jumping.

Exploring by themselves.

Finding horses.

Purposely falling over.

Handsome husbands. Oh wait, just one, and he's all mine :)

Climbing.

Looking for squirrels.

Stalking dogs.

Coming to a realisation that you've been left behind. And not being happy.

Asking if they can climb every tree. Yes. Even this one. 

Hide and seek.

Being brave. Though I keep being distracted by that dad of theirs. I love how he looks after them and keeps them safe. 

Climbing to the top of "n'normous" hills.

More falling.

Coping with wellies and a coat that his stingy mum bought a size too big.

Finding, and ensuring the safety of, worms.

Oh, I don't know how that one got in there...

I love autumn walks. 

on his first day of nursery school

I made sure he had a great snack.

I soaked up our opportunities to play together. 

I took him to nursery school with a heavy heart. I'd been looking forward to having a predictable slot of time to have without any kids around. After all, it's been four years that I've had a child around me 24/7. I was quite excited at the prospect of dusting off my sewing machine and getting on top of the house work. And of course being able to do my "job" (writing articles a couple of weeks a month) during the day, rather than waiting until I'd got the kids to bed. 

But still...

My baby was leaving me. Okay, I was leaving him technically. But it was time, and a sign that he was older now. Confident, and able to be without me. 

He was SO excited to be there. He had a few tears and then I left. Staying at the door a little while to make sure he really would be okay without me for three hours. 

Then I got in the car and drove home. I only buckled myself in. I got home and didn't have anyone or anything to get out of the car. 

I got home and tried to remember a time I'd come home alone to an empty house. I couldn't think of one. 

I had a really productive afternoon of sewing, but earlier than planned I was itching to get in the car and see my baby boy. 

Who was playing outside as happy as can be.

And before I'd pulled the car out of the road, this happened:

He loves nursery school. I have mixed feelings...

misunderstandings

I had a few bad days this week. You probably know the drill. Nothing particularly awful, but crying, tantrums, fighting, a house that wont stay remotely clean, too much to do and not nearly enough energy. 

Think the joggers, hoodie and marks on the mirror speak for themselves.

I got to thinking today though, a lot of it seems to come from a misunderstanding. Sometimes my kids don't understand what I'm telling them, but the majority of the time, I just don't understand them!

Occasionally Izzy will think I'm telling her off when I'm not. Or Ethan thinks that me laughing when he grabs onto my leg in public and refuses to walk means that I'm condoning his behaviour; as opposed to me being embarrassed by my lack of ability to control my son and get him walking again.

But normally I get annoyed or upset with their behaviour, because I haven't noticed what they wanted, or have really asked for. 

Sometimes when Ethan is pushing his sister, jumping on me and emptying out all his toys he isn't playing up or being uncontrollable - it actually means that he just wants an outlet for his energy. He needs some active "boy" time.

Or that when he's not sharing or is shouting at one of his friends he has over, it's not because he's naughty, or doesn't like his friend. It's because he needs to be shown how to play and share. 

And when Izzy just will.not.stop.crying.at.every.little.thing. What she needs is her mum to cuddle her and bring her back to a happier place - not to get mad and frustrated. 

Sometimes as a parent, I need more than a few hints. I'm very much still learning. I have bad days, and I have days when I'm not sure if it's the onions making me cry at dinner, or if it's just the suckiness of the day. But, I still want to learn. To know quicker why my child behaves in a bad way, and what that really means. To be tuned in to their mood.

And sometimes I just need time off. Because being a mum is full on!

I am mum

I am a mum of two crazy kids.

I don't take myself too seriously.

I don't always wear make up, or do my hair.

But this is how my kids see me. 

And they love me.

They don't care about the bags under my eyes, or the kinks in my hair, or the spot on my face. They love me for the mum that I am. 

Recently there's been a lot more of this. I want to remember them how the kids are. The things they do, how they look, and the memories that go with the pictures. 

I realised that I wanted some of me too. Not glammed up for a photo shoot, or on a Sunday - the one day I wear make up and do my hair (mostly), but everyday. How I am in this stage of life, and how I look. 

And I want to remember what I think, and like. How I look forward to 6pm, when dinner is ready and kids are quiet and Andy steps in the door in his work clothes. That I love the feeling of a husband who works hard for his family.

I want to remember the time spent with Ethan on those days when Izzy's at school. How we play "dinosaur" by hiding under the covers in my bedroom and whispering. Then he'll ask me if I want a drink, then carefully pour me imaginary juice complete with straw.

I want to remember the conversations with Izzy to explain why I said no. To remember how grown up she seems when she explains how she's feeling. The way she takes time out in her room if she gets upset, and how we cuddle after and talk about it. I really want to make sure I remember how to talk with her openly like that.

And I want to remember that I am still me. When I'm free from the demanding label of "mum", that I'm me. I have passions and talents. I sew, and create and write. I stay up late talking with my best friend; my husband, and how our conversations are sometimes normal, sometimes serious, and sometimes silly. And that after seven and a half years, we've not lost our spark, and that it only seems to keep growing and that we seem to understand each other more now than we ever did. 

I am mum, and wife, and me. I want to remember that.