mother guilt

I believe there is a book out about this ( see Mother Guilt - by Ita Buttrose - havent read it).... yesterday I went for a walk - with baby in pouch but without 2 year old. 2 year old in sobs because mummy was going without him (a grandmother was there to look after him). Despite the fact that I was doing it to control my weight since having preeclampsia twice gives me a very high chance of developing high blood pressure later in life, and walking with my 2 year old isn't a major workout - I cried for the first part of the walk, feeling bad for doing something for myself. Hmm, how is going back to work this week (as of today) going to with all that guilt???

future biography

I have just been reading a biog of Jane Austen. (I finished it! wonders will never cease) I was thinking - how are biographers going to cope these days when we don't write letters - Austen wrote multitudes of long letters to lots of people - we therefore often can construct where she was , what she was doing and thinking at any time. Then I realised - well its not the same - but the blog may fill part of the hole left by the abandon of epistolary culture. In which case, at this point my biog is looking sadly lacklustre.

earliest experience

further to last post. I was thinking about my experience as a newborn, that while I was used to sharing the womb, when I came out due to being very small, I was put in a humidicrib and then stayed in hospital til 7.5 weeks old. So my twin was taken away at birth - how did this affect me? And they now know that children need touch from day one - so the humidicrib I was in, which had no holes for touching - has been replaced with touch friendly ones these days. This explains quite a bit about me (if you know me you might be able to work that out). Watching my 2 children, I can see the birth order influence already shaping their personalities. My eldest, who was an only child only 3 m onths ago, is now suddenly displaying eldest characteristics. My youngest is developing more pateince, as he is forced to wait more than my first. How much of who we are is determined pre memory even?

for my bro

a couple of nights ago i watched a show on conjoined twins. as a twin, such docos draw me in. i cried as one twin died so the other might live.

what really struck me was that once they were separated they had to put a mirror next to each baby because otherwise they fretted - life had always been lived with this other. hey my twin i miss you! you were there before birth even. still not used to you being interstate even -is it 8 years? later.

theology and kids

Story one: we read a book on Easter at playgroup and I asked Sparky about it later that day. That book was about Jesus mummy, not Easter. Easter is about Jesus I reply. Gales of laughter from Sparky. No mummy, Easter is about Eggs. Ok I may be a pastor, but how do you teach a 2 year old about the cross?

Story two: Last night, I was singing Jesus loves the little children to Sparky before bed. This always ends up with multiple verses Jesus loves all the Sparkys, Owls, Daddies and Mummies, at Sparky's urging. I wasn't feeling in charity with my family, the world or God really. As I sung each verse, I realised the simple truth of this song "they are precious in his sight" and my failure to live by it. I had been disciplining Sparky all day - necessary, but how could I try to bring in more grace with the truth I had been giving him? (see Cloud and Townsend Raising Great Kids :parenting with Grace and Truth, and Kimmel's Grace based parenting) . I was running out of patience with Owl, who is a bad sleeper, losing sight of how all this would fade in memory as he grew. I was taking out my frustration on my husband - thinking cynical thoughts about men generally. Forgetting that he was my ally in this difficult business of bringing up children. And I had certainly forgotten Jesus loved me, feeling like a grit your teeth hopeless unappreciated drudge. It occurred to me society doesn't appreciate mummies enough, but Jesus does - the Jesus that cared for his mother even as he died. I think I need to go back to Sunday School.