Resolutions 2018 - building into family life

It's 2018!

I do resolutions. Lots of people I know don't like the idea, feeling it puts on unnecessary pressure, but I feel they are helpful in refining what I'm hoping to achieve in the year to come. So yes, I do resolutions. Seven of them this year, which must be a new record!

1. Phone
   I intend to be much more present with my children. This has been on my mind for a while: I don't want to be a distracted parent or put a screen between my children and me. They notice.
   I've seen people put away their phones entirely, or even delete Facebook or other apps off them, but my plan is simply to only use the phone when I'm either looking something up (that's relevant at the time) or when someone important calls / sends a message.
2. Sit-down family meals
   I didn't grow up sitting around a table to eat. It feels alien to me, even though in my "second family" (my aunt's, where I lived age 15-18) it was absolutely the done thing; it never became normal to me. Somehow sitting around a table to eat feels formal, stiff, official. But Mr. has been asking for a while, and so I'm ready to give it a go... and for the kids' sake as well, of course. As they grow older I can easily imagine us all sitting around a dinner table and talking about our day, having a real family connection time.
   I've also been bothered about how I eat a few bites of leftovers here, a little bit of this and that while standing up and walking around, totally distracted and not even tasting any of it. I want to eat more consciously. So it's for myself as well, I want to try to eat at a table most of the time, concentrate on eating the food and really enjoy it.
3. German
   N (3) talks, and talks a lot - in English. I find it very hard to speak German to someone who responds in English! And I'm beginning to see her not understanding some of the things I say, and then I have to repeat them in English. If I keep going this way, it'll only get harder! So, my resolution for this year is to consistently speak German with my kids; certainly when we're on our own, but also when I'm speaking only to them when others are around. I feel odd about this, it feels rude to speak a foreign language in front of people who don't understand... but I do think it's necessary because otherwise it's just not consistent enough for them.
4. Minimal new purchases
   I'm 90% there already, but this year again I purpose to buy nothing new except for food. Almost all our furniture which we bought in 2017 (with the exception of certain clever Ikea storage we just can't do without) is second hand, all my clothes and most of the kids' are, and toys too. I plan to continue being mindful and only ever buying new when I find no workable alternative in charity shops or online.
5. No TV for the kids without Mr
   This one explains itself... I do turn it on rarely, but it's been increasing because N3 has been asking for it more and more. There's value in it because we watch German programmes, I tell myself; but I think it's better to cut it right down. I don't like my children looking like zombies as they're spellbound by what's happening on the screen. I want them to play.
   Mr takes the kids downstairs with him in the morning to give me a bit more time to stay in bed, and on weekdays as he gets ready for work he does rely on the TV to keep the kids occupied so he can get on with things. That's going to be the only designated TV time for them now.
6. TV-less adult night
   And for us adults, we've come to rely on the TV pretty much every night. I put the kids to bed and when I come downstairs, Mr will have tea ready and we'll watch something. It's a nice routine, but it's not great for connecting with each other. So while the family dinner table will help with connection, we'll also purposely keep the telly off (at least) one night a week to actually... talk. Or play games. Or read. Anything but the box!
7. Go outside more
   I'm not great at going outside, especially in the winter. I hate being cold. I don't know what to do when outside, and the kids aren't really ready to occupy themselves outside. They look to me to play with or tell them what to do, and I have no idea! So we're all cold and miserable outside, as well as bored. Not a great combination! In one way I'm planning to let myself off the hook in the cold season, so I'm not going to set any legalistic targets or requirements - naturally when the weather gets better I'll go out much more with them. But even in the cold, I purpose to make more of an effort.

All of these resolutions aim at making us the family we hope to be - connected with each other, rather than with TVs or devices. Treading lightly in terms of our resources.

Our 2017 (A year-end letter)

Dear friends,

it's been an eventful year.

Goodbye, boat life!

Somehow it's only been 6 years since Mr and I even met, and since then there's never been a dull year. Long may this continue!

We started 2017 with a move - no, two moves. We had sold our boat and needed to be out by 6th January, but hadn't exchanged on the house by then. As a solution it just so happened that a colleague of Mr had a basement flat we could move into for three weeks! Amazing provision, a great place, although moving twice in one month isn't something I'd recommend with two under 3's.

At the end of January, though, our new house was ours and we moved. On moving day we were joined by what seemed like the entire body of Lawrence Weston Community Church, everyone showing up to help: so the challenge became less one of physical hard work for us and more one of coordination of the many willing helpers! Midway through the morning, an elderly lady from the church showed up at our doorstep with the words: "Sorry I'm late! How can I help?" - and spent the rest of the morning polishing windowsills (there was dust everywhere after having the house rewired).

Having been welcomed to our new home and community like this was an amazing start. One of my main worries in moving away from the boat was the loss of the brilliant boating community where everyone knew each other and was willing to help at the drop of a hat. Yet this was provided so beautifully, not just by the church but also our neighbours. We found community.

Yay, we've got our house now!

Getting the house habitable took a while. We spent a couple of months living downstairs only - an advantage of moving from a boat where all the furniture was built-in was that the only furniture we owned was a sofa, meaning that we didn't need the extra space upstairs immediately and in terms of living space we had pretty much the same amount in the house as we'd had aboard. Mr hand-built a wall / wardrobe to divide the two main bedrooms, which had been divided by asbestos; after that, we had carpets laid and moved upstairs.

Much of 2017 was dominated by the house and getting it sorted - and it's far from there, in fact, major building works have yet to happen (an extension and kitchen) - but we also had fun. The cheapest and kid-friendliest way to get a holiday turns out to be camping, which we're perfectly prepared for with our Bongo "Mr Bubbles" and we went on several camping trips this year. But there was also opportunity for a week's holiday in the sun with grandma and grandad, in Menorca, out of season in a villa; it was peaceful and still warm enough.

At the end of a year in our new home, we really feel like we've found our groove. The kids and I attend the same groups each weekday, getting to know other mums and kids, and it was wonderful at Christmas to attend a carol singing event and know so many people in the crowd. Community. We're active at our church and love having our new friends visiting, or visiting theirs, sharing life together: community.

And that, friends, is perhaps my word for 2017. Community. It's a wonderful thing.

Every blessing for the new year to you all.

"So what difference does being a Christian make in your life?"

I was driving today and had the radio on, listening to an interview where this question was asked. The interviewee was a bit at a loss to explain - and I totally understood why, such an all-encompassing and foundational change as becoming a Christian... how would I explain, concisely and simply, the difference it's made for me?

Any answer I came up with seemed trite, worn, cliched. What difference?

I could talk about how I'm simply not the same person I was... but how can anyone really appreciate how radical a change it is to go from dead inside without even knowing it, to alive?

Or how much knowing and leaning on Jesus has helped me in the bad times? Oh no, I'd never bring this as an argument because I went through much worse before I was a Christian than anything life has thrown at me after... and I survived, even without knowing him.

I think the best way for me to explain the difference inside is to say: I care now.

I never used to care about others. Not since my mother died when I was 15 - I loved no one after that. Even after becoming a Christian, restoring my ability to love and care was a process that took about a decade!

I never used to care about myself. That's not to say I wasn't selfish, because I was, but frankly the only reason I lived long enough to become a Christian at 21 was that I hadn't found a way to stop being alive that would definitely work (I knew I wouldn't get a second chance if I attempted suicide and failed) and was within reach. I had stockpiled my mother's Rohypnol while she was sick - I'd give her one and put one in my stash, to use in case she didn't make it; but because she died in hospital and I wasn't able to get back home for about a week after, it must have been found. No one ever mentioned it but my stash was gone and in the years I lived at my aunt's I was never, ever left on my own. So... lack of opportunity really. I didn't always have an active death wish but if the opportunity had presented itself I'd probably have taken it. Nothing to live for.

That's what's changed. You could argue that I now have a family to live for, and that is true, but before God gave me the ability to care they wouldn't have made an ounce of difference. I do care for them and I would  absolutely die for them, but not because I don't care about my own life.

I have been given the ability to care, or in Christian jargon, my heart has come to life. That's the difference.

Fear based parenting - refusing the pressure

A friend with a nearly 4-month old baby visited me today. We don't see each other much these days since I've moved away, but before she gave birth I offered her a few thoughts on baby parenting (mainly to trust her instincts rather than parenting books / other people's opinions, and follow the baby's lead) and she told me today how much she took those things to heart and how well it's served her. Both she and her baby are thriving and loving the bonding early months.

But, she also told me that there's already pressure on her - friends with babies the same age are sleep training them (leaving them to cry alone), raising their eyebrows at her feeding her baby to sleep... at not even 4 months old?? I was gobsmacked. She asked me, why is it bad to feed your baby to sleep?

My answer: I'm not sure, I still feed my 3yo to sleep and it's the one thing that makes her want to go to bed - without it I don't know how much fight she'd be putting up!

But of course I've had that thrown at me too. You can't keep feeding your baby to sleep, it's a bad habit!

Why?

The best answer I can come up with, from conversations with friends, is fear. Why do people let their babies cry until they can cry no more, and call it self soothing... why go through that awful time as a mother, when every fibre of your being screams at you to just GO TO YOUR BABY and you refuse... what can possibly trump the power of that instinct? Fear.

What are we so afraid of that we create issues where none exist? When a baby could peacefully feed to sleep in mama's arms - instead to spend hours and days and nights refusing its urgent need, until it learns to stop asking? Where does this fear come from?

We have to learn to refuse the fear. Refuse the pressure. I will not create issues where there is no problem right now, just because I fear some vague problem that may (or may not!) occur in the future. 

So if I feed baby to sleep, they may not be able to settle at night without me? Well here's a newsflash: I signed up to being a mum when I brought this baby into the world. Being there for my baby is my calling, my duty - why should it have to settle down without me? If there's an emergency and I can't be there, the baby will suffer a bit and then eventually manage; but why make baby go through that without the need?

So if I don't force my baby to sleep all alone, they will NEVER sleep alone? Newsflash: I know so many families whose children - school age children! - regularly come into the parents' bed at night... yet my 3yo sleeps through reliably every night, and has done since age 2. I  refused to make her associate falling asleep with distress - shouldn't it be a safe, calm, warm experience? Funny how many kids hate going to sleep and stall and stall. I wonder if there's a connection.

So if I don't send my kid to nursery (later: school) they'll become a loner with no social skills? Well newsflash: we're surrounded by people to interact with. People of all ages, not just those within a year of the same age who are still very much learning what is and isn't socially acceptable behaviour. My 3yo is polite, friendly, open and inclusive - not least, I would say, because she learns how to interact from a variety of people, not just from her equally immature peers.

I will not base my parenting decisions on fears of the future.

"For God has not given us a spirit of fearfulness, but one of power, love and sound judgement."
- 2 Tim. 1.7 HCSB

Building family Christmas traditions

I was never 'into' Christmas as an adult. Along with most reasonable people, I rolled my eyes at the waste of electricity for fairy lights, the earlier-every-year creep of its attending commercialism, the nonsense of a fat bearded man in red and white coming down chimneys. (I didn't grow up with Santa so from an outsider's perspective it just is weird to celebrate Christ's birth that way).

Now I have children, however, I have to engage with the culture around us, interpret it for them in a way... I want them to experience that deep and meaningful anchoring to the past that traditions give us.

But not with Santa. I'm uneasy about that man.

Traditions and family

I think that traditions serve several important purposes for kids:

• identity (this is what we as a family do); 
• anchoring (this is what we as a community do), and
• sign posting (this is why we do this)

These are probably why I rejected the traditions I grew up with as a young adult: I did not wish to identify with or be anchored to where I'd come from, and I certainly didn't believe in what it all pointed to - Christ come into the world.

But now, a Christian, a mother, I have a joyful duty and serious responsibility to offer my children memories to make, stories to carry throughout their life. Traditions matter.

Christmas as a Season

The day itself is short - it's the climax, the fulfilment of all the preparation that's gone before... like Mary giving birth to Jesus (and after all that's what we celebrate) it's an event that is preceded by a period of preparation, of anticipation. There will be a big emphasis on advent in this house.

Advent will include:

• Advent calendars. A lovely, visual way to build the excitement by counting down (well, up) to the big event. We've got two chocolate advent calendars - the boy is now 18 months and won't be left out - but only one 'gifts' advent calendar, for the 3 year old. It's the same one I've used since we got married, so there's already a kind of tradition there... it's got sewn fabric bunting pockets to put small items into. I bought a small nativity play set that just happens to have almost the right number of pieces; between shepherds, animals, angels, kings etc she will end up, at Christmas, with a full nativity set to play with. And each day I can explain who this figure is. 
• Advent Sundays. They're special. In Austria we would light another candle each advent Sunday on our advent wreath, and I like that tradition so we're doing that. 
• Also weekly, although probably not on Sundays, we'll be visiting a place (our doctors, the police, fire service, ambulance service) whose service we are grateful for and thanking them with little gifts of sweets. This way I'm looking to instil an understanding of the spirit of Christmas, of blessing others - to counter the message that it's all about the gifts you get. 
• Lots of toddler group Christmas activities and crafts. Of course those are inevitable, but they're also useful. The kids will experience all sorts of views, images and ideas about Christmas and I'll get the chance to talk to them about it all. 

What advent won't include for us:

• Visiting Santa's grotto. Going into what sounds like a cold, damp lair belonging to this mythical intruder is not for me, and even if we did it there would be a lot of explanation needed (is this man here the real Santa? Why sit on his lap? What has he got to do with Jesus' birthday?) which I think would be quite confusing for a 3 year old. 
• A Christmas tree at home. Our home will be decorated, yes, but by putting up a Christmas tree weeks before the event they would become used to its presence and by Christmas it's not special any more. 

Christmas, the event

To me, Christmas is the evening of 24th December. That night is the culmination after so much preparation and excitement and I want it to be magical to the children.

They will go out with their grandparents that afternoon. Maybe to a Christmas market. Meanwhile at home, we'll put up the tree and put the presents underneath it so that when they come home after dark, they walk into a room that is lit up only by the lights from that tree. Christmas music will be playing softly in the background. We might sing Silent Night. We'll definitely wish Jesus a happy birthday and thank God for sending him into our world.

And then, somewhere between eating our Christmas dinner and opening our presents, we'll be making lasting memories of love and family.

A New Vocation

We need money.

The cold hard truth - we are just about managing on one salary, but it's tight and the house is still a project with much more to do than we have money for! So, we need some more income.

 Mr. and I sat down for a long chat about that. He can't change jobs; in his industry there is great uncertainty due to Brexit right now, and he sees lots of colleagues being made redundant. He's got a good pension scheme where he is, and has been due a pay rise for several years (!) now - hopefully that will come to fruition at some point. So changing jobs isn't workable for him, and changing careers (which he would quite like to do) would mean taking a huge pay cut for several years as he gets stuck in to his new career, which also isn't workable right now.

As for me, I'm qualified as a marketer (postgrad). But I don't have the mental capacity at the moment to really apply myself in that field; if I wanted to be employed, it would be difficult to find a job with better conditions than the one I had before baby #2 - that was only 8 hours a week, from home, completely flexible on times... yet I could barely do it with one baby, certainly not with two! Only 8 hours, sounds like nothing, but working them around kids naps or occasions when the grandparents can take the kids was incredibly stressful and I don't feel I was able to give my best to that job. If I wanted to be self-employed and work as a consultant or similar (charity marketing, fundraising etc. being my specialities) I'd have to spend years to build up a client base and reputation, and would have very busy periods within projects which I couldn't necessarily work around the kids.

So... what to do?

It was for me to find something to do, since Mr. isn't in a position to. I set out my requirements:

• a completely flexible job that I could do around the kids
• something that would bring in money quickly (not years of building up)
• something that would definitely be needed
• something that didn't require strenuous training or time away to train (because of the kids)
• something that wasn't too mentally demanding - as my mental energy mostly goes on my kids!

...so now I'm training as a hairdresser.

It's a one-year course, after which I'll be qualified to be a mobile hairdresser. I can go to people's own homes, or have them come to mine. This means I can set my own working hours around what works for me and my clients!

And is there a market for this? You bet! I know lots of mums who avoid going to a salon due to having to organise childcare, as well as the cost; also elderly people who find it hard to get out to a salon. Both of these groups, mums and elderly people, are also often lonely and need a chat. This is the vocation I'm increasingly becoming aware of - having chosen the profession and training on the purely practical points above, I'm now finding that perhaps this is actually what I'm being called to do... a way in to be a listening ear, an encourager, a sympathetic presence in the lives of people who don't often get the chance to have an uninterrupted conversation (and with toddlers, don't I know all about that!)

I can't wait to get stuck in. Several months into the course now I find it's so much more interesting to learn about all this than I thought it would be!

The lure of coping mechanisms old and new

In my previous post, I illustrated the way I feel like a car on ice - I've lost traction and it feels like going into a spin is just a matter of time.

Now, this isn't a sudden, new thing; it's built up over months, until finally the penny dropped in my head. I'd been going, running, slipping and sliding and instead of stopping to think what's going on, I turned to coping mechanisms. I see this so clearly now! But in the months leading up to this realisation that I need to actually put some commitments down, I found myself desperately trying to fix myself somehow.

Because it had to be me that's wrong, right? Too lazy / disorganised. My first instinct is to find the problem within myself, and fix it. My second instinct is to do the ostrich: focus on something completely unrelated and hope that the actual issue will go away.

So at first, to fix myself, I started making plans. A well planned day wouldn't get away from me! I knew what I was going to do when, what I would clean on which day, what I'd cook each day of the coming week. None of that was a bad idea as such, except that I failed to account for the fact that I'm not a robot and sometimes I'd really need a moment to have a cup of tea on the sofa instead of mopping the floor. No time for slacking like that in my plan - so I'd fail at keeping up with it and try harder next time. Except I'm still not a robot.

Grace. Plans are good, organising is good, but when I'm overcommitted and unable to allow for a break now and then, I need to consider that maybe all the things I'm planning and organising aren't realistic to achieve... ouch.

And so after trying for way too long to organise my way out of overcommittment, I found myself going down a well worn old path to escape thinking about things - to do the ostrich. I had thought that perhaps this path would have grown a few brambles by now, as I had avoided it for many years.... but it's still here and wide open as ever, I found.

Food.

Like any old addict I almost sleepwalked straight back into the familiar misery of disordered eating. I walked right across several lines in the sand that should have sent claxons blaring in alarm - cutting out food groups; telling Mr. I was going to do XYZ (I have made a promise to myself to keep the morass of my body/ food issues away from him as I wouldn't want him to see what I see when looking at me); weighing often; compensatory eating ("been good all week, I deserve a treat") and loss of control.

Those things aren't easy to admit but if I've learned one thing in my recovery it's that they fester and grow in the dark. Secrets kill.

So what's pulled me up to consciousness?

I'm not sure, is the honest (and frightening) answer. Perhaps the years of freedom and recovery, becoming used to healthy behaviours, eventually kicked into my subconscious with a resounding HELL NO. Or maybe having the kids, needing to be fully present for them, stops me getting absorbed the way I used to be. Or maybe, just maybe, I have God to thank. He's the one that got me out of the food mess all those years ago, after all.... and though he did warn me that if I really wanted to go back then I could, I know he wouldn't just wash his hands of me.

I have to trust that he can and will take me back to the fork in the road where I turned towards self-destruction to distract myself from life. Life is for living, it's for being fully present!

I'm doing too much

Confession time: I'm not up to it all.

Lately - that is, over the last six months or so - I've been increasingly feeling like a car that's gone on an icy patch: I'm still going in the direction I want, momentum is carrying me, but I've lost my grip on the road. Plates I'm spinning are beginning to drop.

I need to do less, and that is a very tough realisation to come to.

For someone who's always worked full time, volunteered, was active in the church.... I often feel like I'm hardly doing anything now! But somehow this "hardly anything" takes much more of my mental and physical energy than anything I've ever done before. But it's hard to remember this when I'm asked, oh can you JUST do this.... help there... because all those requests are small things in themselves and they're oh so easy to add to my plate. Sure I can do that little thing! And this too. And the other. And - then I'm starting to slip and slide on the ice.

So I'm having a long, hard look at my priorities. None of the many plates I'm spinning are bad, they're all worthy and important, but I need to remember what I'm here for and that I just can't spread myself too thin!

1. Family. I'm spending almost all my time with my kids, and that's intentional. I want to be a mum who is giving them the best, rather than the rest, of her energy and attention. To support my family and my ability to be with them, I've started to train as a hairdresser - that's a one-year course I've committed to and after that I'll be able to make an extra income that works around the kids. 
2. Local community. When we moved to this area, we decided to become part of a local church on the estate and to give it our all. The church is an incredibly exciting, dynamic group with a real heart for reaching and supporting local people - I help regularly at the kids club, which draws lots of local children whose parents have absolutely no connection to church. Helping there is very much part of my purpose. 
3. Service. This is the tough place, where cuts have to happen somewhere. I serve in various ways - typing for deaf people, leading a Bible study group - all of which I care about greatly, but which aren't part of my core calling. 

It's not that I can't say no - if you've ever met me in person you'll know that I usually say what I mean, and I won't say yes when I mean no. (Some years ago when I was happily single and child free, I moved to a new city and began attending a new church. After a few weeks there, a lady approached me asking if I'd like to help with kids ministry - my face must have said it all - and my no was so clear they never asked me again about anything to do with kids!)

My problem is that I underestimate ALL THE TIME what it takes these days to complete even the simplest of tasks! 

So I'll have to make my default answer,  "I'll think/ pray about it" rather than yes, even if I feel I could do it. And then to consider whether it's part of my core purpose or not. Now for the hard task of letting go of some commitments to regain some traction on that ice patch....

A question of obedience

I read something the other day. A Christian parent, with the best of intentions, said their goal for their child was to build "a habit of cheerful, first-time, complete obedience".

I thought about that.

I mulled it over for days.

And I have pretty strong feelings about it: this is not what I want to build in my children. Not at all. It's something I have read and heard fairly frequently in Christian circles, this idea of instant obedience as a goal for your child. With the idea that they will then be quick to obey God in a cheerful and complete manner.

So why do I disagree so strongly? There are just so many things wrong with this idea!

• Firstly, I don't want my children to obey any and all authority out of habit. A habit of obedience is not good in an adult, and adults is who they will become.
  "I was ordered to do it, and I obeyed." - as an Austrian, with the shameful past of the 20th century behind us, this makes me shudder.
• I want my children to choose to obey God out of conviction. Not habit. This is something they will need to choose at a later stage in their lives, when they are able to; and I want them to think it through carefully, commit completely, and obey because they are convinced and because they love God. Not because they've been taught, or out of fear, or out of habit.
• Equally, I want my children to obey me because they love me and they love to please me. Not because they've been trained into a habit of not questioning my authority. In fact I would welcome their questioning - I want them to trust that I will only require obedience at times where it truly matters, and I will always have good reasons for requiring it. They are welcome to ask me what those reasons are, and I will explain it to them.
  That is how I want them to obey God, too: out of love and trust. I believe God is good and requires obedience for good reasons, for my good. That's why I obey him. That's how I want my children to follow him - with their minds engaged.

Obedience training is for dogs - a child is not a separate being, they are persons who will be adults and I really try to think through what I'm building into them long term. Would "cheerful, complete, first-time obedience" make my life easier? For sure it would! But that's not the persons I hope to build as they go out into the world.

Sleep (or not): an experience of powerlessness

It's 9.30pm and N - now 2 years and 4 months old - has only just fallen asleep. We started this evening at 7pm or so.

At times like this, every single minute truly stretches. She doesn't fight, as such; she just lays there and stays awake. Counts her fingers. Plays with her lips. She doesn't try to get up but she's definitely awake and conscious.

And it's the most infuriating thing! Why? Because there is nothing, nothing whatsoever, that I can do to get her to go to sleep. She's not doing anything wrong. She even closes her eyes when I tell her to sleep now (for a moment or two).

Over the course of these long 2+ hours I go through a lot of approaches. None work. We start with breastfeeding, as usual; when one of us has had enough, she comes off and I'll cuddle her. That's when I expect her to go to sleep.

But no.... the fiddling, whispering, finger play - or, if I crack down on everything, simply laying there awake continues. And continues. She stops doing whatever it is when I tell her to stop, but starts up again a little later. And I get frustrated. Later I get angry. And I have shouted at her before, making her cry.

It's all because I'm powerless.

I can't make it happen.

I can't force her.

Maybe this is a taste of parenthood reality.... as a baby, I was in charge and if I wanted her to sleep, I'd put her in bed, feed, done. But babyhood is over and piece by piece, this small person is wrenching control of her life from my grasp.

Life with 2 under 2

For 5 months in 2016, I had two kids under two years old.

There's been the occasional comment about their "close gap". I don't know.... we never planned any of it and I never had a fixed idea in my mind so this gap to me is the perfect gap. It's what we've got and once I got my head around it, we got it to work! Helpfully, big girl has never been hostile to the little boy. She was very angry at me for the first few weeks but from the start she liked her little brother. She'd stroke his head and on occasion I've had to intervene when she tried to share her food with him - once I found half a grape in his mouth!

While it's been lovely and they are both giving me lots of joy, I have never worked so hard in my life on a 24/7 basis. Worked mentally, emotionally, and physically. The demands are constant and immediate. Sit down with a cup of tea? Don't make me laugh - I count myself lucky if I get to brush my teeth in the morning and showers have become a twice-a-week occasion (how's that for openness??)

So how do I cope - how do we make it work? A few things we've learned...

• I learned how to feed both at the same time, while lying down in bed. The secret - big girl lies on the side and feeds from that side, and little boy lies on me on his belly and feeds there. Practice made perfect!
• When my milk came in, big girl thought it was great. Too much so! She woke up more often in the night to feed than the newborn did! And I just couldn't do that for long - so we night weaned her pretty rapidly. For the first three or four months therefore, Mr was sharing a bed with big girl and I was in a separate room sharing a bed with baby. She cried for three days but Mr was there to cuddle her and she eventually accepted that nights were for sleeping. Within a week or two she was reliably sleeping through.
• I gave big girl only one side to feed on, whereas little boy fed from both sides. That way, one side was reserved for the baby at all times. Now we've pretty much come to a point where one side is his and the other is hers.
• We go out every day, morning and then again in the afternoon. Staying at home, without outside space, just doesn't work. Going out can be something as little as going grocery shopping, but mostly it's playdates and playgroups.
• This has taught me that somehow most families seem to only go out in the morning but in the afternoon all the family activities cease! No playgroups in the afternoons, even the play cafe closes at 3pm. It's an ongoing challenge finding things to do now that playgrounds aren't much of an option with the winter weather.
• Big girl had settled into a routine of one big nap in the middle of the day even before the boy was born, and I made sure she continued that way. There have been a few occasions where she wouldn't sleep - sleep regressions at 18months and 2 years - but she's always settled back into the mid-day sleep. Which both the boy and myself join her for. This keeps me going when the nights are long with hourly feeding!
• Oh, and grandparents. Twice a week they take big girl away for a couple of hours to give me breathing space. And when things get on top of me they're there too. Grandparents are the best.

We're getting to a point, baby being 7 months old, where they're actually interacting with each other occasionally and it's so cute to see them laughing together! I cannot wait to see their relationship blossom as they grow older. 19 months is a great gap to have.

Adding baby 2: the first few weeks

I haven't written in months, and for good reason. Life has taken on a whole new level of hectic since the boy joined us in May; he's now 7 months old and starting solids and sitting unaided! So quick, I must have blinked....

A conversation with a friend today made me realise that I'm already half forgetting the early days - maybe mentally blocking them out? - and I don't want to forget. Those were hard times, but I don't want to bury them because we got through and we've all grown so much because of them.

Like last time, Mr had two weeks off after I gave birth. Unlike last time, his role was mainly to occupy and be there for the toddler, who had just started walking. Luckily I was physically much better after this birth (going for a family walk the very next day) so I didn't need rest as much... and the first days as a family of four were anything but restful! Mr did what he could but of course toddler girl still wanted mummy and the newborn was windy and cried quite a lot.

At the end of his 2 week paternity leave, Mr sat down opposite me, looked wearily at me and asked, "are you angry at me for some reason?" - ouch.

I had been short with him, easily annoyed, expecting him to read my mind and getting angry when he couldn't - all the while I knew he was doing his very best yet I couldn't help it. I was stressed and worn out and I took it out on him. My rock and anchor was where I dumped all the rubbish feelings and he really didn't deserve that!

I'd love to say it all got better after this. In fairness, I didn't take out my stress on Mr quite as much but that's at least partly because he went back to work and simply wasn't around! I had to sink or swim with my 2 under 2. And for the first month or so, I barely kept us above the water. Constantly torn between toddler and baby, neither getting my full attention much of the time - but, eventually, a routine came about and I learned a thing or two about what was feasible in a day and what wasn't. I'll probably do a separate post about what our days look like now.

Having two kids who are actually really easygoing and lovely, having parents in law close by who are willing and able to help, and a solid support network of local mum friends: those are the things that made all the difference in the early days.

Living undistracted

I had a pretty painful realisation this evening.

Every night as I feed my kids to sleep, I either play around on my phone (if I have a hand free, which is not always the case when feeding two at the same time!) or I pretend to be asleep so that my toddler won't have anything to distract her from falling asleep.

Often she performs various gymnastics (Downward Dog with nipple in mouth is a particular favourite) or she attempts to engage with me, kiss me... and until this evening I've always dismissed that as attempts to evade sleep, so I ignored or discouraged it. But what if those attempts at connecting with me are genuine expressions of love? I believe they are - and as of now I'll no longer distract myself or ignore her, I will receive and reciprocate her love and if that means some extra time at bedtime then so be it. I enjoy her company, after all.

I don't think I'll ever make a draconian resolution like getting rid of Facebook or the smartphone - after all it's not the tool but the mindset which takes me out of the moment. I can be perfectly distracted without a smartphone, if I'm physically there but making my shopping list in my head. And to be fair, I do enjoy my children so much that I'm pretty good at being fully present with them, much of the time.

But, no more distractions at bedtime.

I'm not the parent I thought I would be

Before I had my first child, let's be clear, I didn't really want kids so I didn't spend much time thinking about how I might raise children. I didn't spend time with other people's kids either: I could count the occasions I babysat on one hand (and then only on the condition that they were asleep when I arrived!). As far as I was concerned, as long as they were someone else's responsibility and kept quietly out of the way when I was around, I was ok with them.

That said, occasionally I had conversations about kids with parents. Given how big a part of a parent's life their children are, it's a hard to avoid subject. Once I was married, and many of my friends were too, the subject would come up more often. And once I was pregnant of course it was something I sought out deliberately - I was obviously very aware of how little I knew about child rearing and how much catching up I had to do!

Tiny. 

Looking back I think I had an advantage, though. I came into parenthood with minimal preconceived ideas and old-wives wisdoms. For the most part, I just did what felt right and trusted that my prayers for help would be answered when I needed them to be. And that's what happened! I didn't read what I now know to be guilt-inducing, formulaic books written by nannies and other women without children of their own (and I thank God for this). I prayed and then I trusted. And now I look back at my little one's first year without regrets, only joy... I look at her now, a year and a half old, and the joy still regularly takes my breath away. When she sleeps - next to me, in my bed where she's been from the beginning - I still often struggle to fall asleep because I can't stop looking at her. Motherhood is amazing.

That's not the parenthood experience I expected!

My experience seems to be the opposite of many of my friends. Many of them couldn't wait to be mothers, but once they were, found things overwhelming and confusing. I found things easier than I ever expected and beautifully clear. Maybe it's also partly an age thing. I was in my 30's, having had a pretty good career with fair amounts of responsibility. Perhaps that's why I didn't look to other people's guidance so much and just trusted my own intuition. I question authority; always have - I do my own research.

With the way I wanted kids out of the way and quiet, I sort of expected to rule my children with an iron fist. I certainly was that way with my own sister (6 years younger): what I said went, when we grew up. For my own, at the time not-yet-there children, nothing was off the table in my mind - naughty steps? Spanking? Time outs? Hey, whatever works to keep the rugrats contained! That's the parent I thought I would be.

I didn't know about the love.
I didn't know about the joy.
And I didn't know about the trust, that unlimited, complete trust in my child's eyes that I was good. That I was for her, that I was her refuge, her safe place.

How can I possibly betray that trust?

I can't. Against all my expectations, I have discovered that this little being in my care is actually a fully formed, fully functional human with a loving and caring personality, who deserves the same respect as any grown up human. Not sure why but I hadn't quite realised this simple fact before!

She trusts me and that's all I need to know about how to treat her. I see my role as nourishing her in every way, but also enabling her to go confidently out into the world to explore it - knowing the safety of mum is there to run to, an anchor. I don't hold her back from being independent, but I "spot" her if she gets into potential trouble... I was given this amazing gift, this trusting little person, and I can only do my best to justify that freely given trust to the best of my ability.

It's a beautiful relationship, not a one-way managerial job of keeping the kid contained. I never knew!

Things parenthood teaches me about God: the Body

I often find myself in awe of how God has made natural things in the world to reveal something about himself. Everywhere you look, things speak about him - how sure it is that there will be a new sunrise after the sunset speaks about his faithfulness and dependability, for example.

Since God is at the very core a relational being, I suppose it makes sense that the greatest lessons about him are found in relationships. Like marriage between a man and a woman - where the man's role reflects Christ, and the bride's does the Church. I've learned a lot about God's character from my own marriage relationship... my man truly does serve and lay his life down for me.

And now, parenthood. Going deeper still, I keep seeing new things that amaze me. This one came to me in the night, when my 19 month old struggled to sleep because of teething pain and wind...

My body is her comfort. 

As she struggled with pain, she snuggled in to me. I couldn't take the pain away of course but being close to me gave her instant comfort.

When she's hurting - whether by accident, by someone else, or through her own fault - she always runs to my body. It's not my words she needs at first, when the upset is strong; she needs my hands, my arms, my embrace. She knows it's safe there, that no part of my body will ever hit, hurt or otherwise (intentionally) do her harm, so no matter how bad things are I can feel her tense body relaxing almost instantly as she cuddles into me.

In the 19 months of her life, my body has been consistently there for her 24/7. Day and night, my body is within reach to provide comfort and literally nourishment (milk) whenever she needs it. That's probably why she's never taken to any "comfort items" like special blankets or dummies - the real thing has always been available.

She's getting more independent by the day, explores the world, walks away from me... but she always knows I'm there if needed. My body is available to her.

What does this teach me about God?

Two things. The body - my body is to my girl what Christ's body is for all people: my relationship with my little one reflects a truth about God's Body. And who is the Body of Christ? We are, the church. I'm both part of the body, and an individual child. As God's child, is it my first instinct to run to his Body for comfort and support? And as part of that same body, am I being that open, available, safe place of comfort for those who are hurting, whether by accident, someone else's, or their own fault? We need to be ready with our arms open and welcoming, providing, embracing - not judging, not lecturing. I'm part of that body and I need to do my part in this.

And secondly, the child - on an individual level, doesn't God tell us to come to him like a child? Trusting... arriving with all our needs and hurts... he never asked that we sort ourselves out before we come to him. When my little girl runs to me, crying, nose running, sobbing about something: I just embrace her, and hold her tight. God does the same. He is simply there. I'm amazed.

Deepening Friendships

If I have a resolution in 2016, it's to pay conscious attention to my friendships. To deepen them, nurture and cherish them consciously.

It's a fact that people come and go in our lives. When I grew up I thought friendships, if they were "real", would just happen and then last forever. Now I know that very real, very genuine friendships can be seasonal in life and when the season is over, the friendship - while it isn't over as such - just doesn't continue as a walk together. The closeness goes away, even though the fondness of friendship continues... I am now friends with people on Facebook who were part of another season in my life, and while our lives have gone completely different paths and we're separated by continents, I love following as their lives unfold in time. And if any of them needed anything I could help with, I'd be there in a heartbeat still.

C.S. Lewis described the love that is friendship as two people who are shoulder to shoulder, looking at something outside of themselves, and that is what binds them. (as opposed to lovers, who are looking at each other). I think that is very true. Some ties that bind are more temporary than others.

Seasons of friendships

Since becoming a mother, I've been amazed how some wonderful women have come into my life and walked alongside me. Amazed at the speed at which depth in those friendships has developed. It's because we have much in common in terms of our experience of being new mothers; that said, 15 months into motherhood there are already a few friendships that have moved on. Where my NCT (antenatal) group of 8 women had everything in common initially as first-time mothers, and we were all very close and constantly in touch supporting one another in the early months, these days contact is sporadic and more a case of the occasional catch-up. Why? Some have gone back to work, that's one reason; but certainly parenting styles make a big difference, and as our little ones grow from completely dependent babies into toddlerhood those differences become more pronounced.

I don't grieve those friendships; I accept that they are part of the sifting, and they were completely genuine at the time they were needed. They have simply served their main purpose now: the closeness is gone, but the fondness remains.

There's a sifting in friendships that time does. I find this now - out of dozens of remarkable women I have been privileged to meet, share deeply with, and walk with since becoming a mother there are now perhaps three or four whom I connect with regularly, who have much in common with me, and with whom I share a depth of relationship that I have to admit I haven't experienced in years prior - and had missed!

And those are the friendship I want to consciously nurture. Being let into the lives of these women is a huge privilege and unattended friendships can fizzle out, which I really don't want to happen.

Intentional friendships

In my life, a lot of my friendships were accidental in a way - we just happened to be thrown into a context together, such as school, where we saw each other a lot and, since we had something in common or a shared interest, friendship grew over time.

Having church as a community is a great blessing that's in a way similar to having a workplace or school: you meet the same set of people regularly, and when you have things in common and click, a friendship can develop. But, it can just stop at that and go no further; to develop any kind of depth, you need to meet outside group contexts, and regularly. As a mum, this requires effort!

I no longer have a place I regularly go to and spend significant amounts of quality time, such as work. My work is at home, my deepest relationship in terms of time spent together is with a 15-month old. And that's as it should be - my time, both quality and quantity, as well as my attention and affection should be focused mostly on that little one. But I need support and nurturing too. Since I'm not automatically in a context where I get that, I need to be intentional about it.

Now I have to schedule "friendship time" if I want it to be regular and of good quality. A quick "how's it going" at the end of a church meeting isn't a deep friendship. Meeting weekly for an hour's walk (and chat!) with a fellow dog owning mum is, and by meeting up here and there for a coffee and kids' play date we are building a genuine, deep and strong friendship.

With another friend, I have committed to scheduling a fortnightly playdate get-together in 2016.

Just because it takes conscious commitment and effort, it's not any less "real" as a friendship. The loss of spontaneity comes with the season of life we're in - but we would all be the poorer if we didn't make the effort.

With love to all my friends - walking with me currently, and having walked with me in the past. I love you.

2015: A Look Back

2015 has been a full year for us. Mostly joy filled, but there was also the devastating news of a close relative's diagnosis with highly advanced cancer.

Those eyes...

I started 2015 still somewhat shell shocked from being thrust into new motherhood - N was then 3 months old - and I'm ending it with "mother" firmly established as something I am, not just something I do. I am who this little one looks to for guidance, love, support, comfort, rest... well, everything really. This, having a person so utterly and completely depending on (fallible) me, it used to scare me. Now it's simply life. I have never had a greater joy than seeing her look up at me with nothing but love and trust in her face. There is no fear, no worry, no hidden agenda; just trust, just love. I'm tasting something of God every day - and even that has become something "normal" to me by now (although I'll admit it does take my breath away at times!).

The little one at 3 months was just about holding her head up and smiling. This 15 month old I have now babbles away in her own language, experiments with walking (insisting on being walked up and down the hall), has her own preferences (Clangers on TV always get a dance and laugh!) and eats like food is going out of fashion! She is truly a joy to us.

On holiday in Madeira

So, what did we get up to this year? My sister was visiting when 2015 arrived (it's really time she came over during the nicer time of year! - let's make 2016 the year for that) and after an amazing holiday to Madeira in March I went back to working for the church; this time from home. I learned that working around a little one's naps was a lot harder work than it sounded - only 8 hours a week, in my previous life that was a single workday! (not even a whole one...) yet it would often take me most of the week to get that time in because naps could be 20 minutes or 2 hours long: no way of knowing in advance.

In the summer we visited my family in Austria and were able to be at my relative's wedding - the one who is battling cancer - a bittersweet experience. To see this horrible disease ravaging a loved one's body; yet a wedding is an event so full of hope, a defiance of the threat of death.

Accessing home for 2 months: via stepladder

We ended the summer with a fun filled camping weekend at Westpoint (with reasonable weather too!) and a short visit by a friend from the US - at that time, our boat was out of the water for maintenance. Originally planned for up to one month we ended up being stuck on land for over two months! The dirt and grime got to me, and the relentless work got to Mr. who could not find anybody to do the laborious yet delicate work required and ended up doing it himself: after a full workday, he'd get home around 6 and then work until about 10. We were beyond happy when that time was finally over and we went back in the water. That day, a cold October day, was also my first (unintentional) swim in the harbour water! Not an experience I'd like to repeat, especially on such a cold day and fully clothed... on the up side however, I had Mr.'s mobile in my pocket and it survived, still going strong today.

Autumn saw the great news of my new pregnancy, as well as a much needed holiday (after the boat was finally done) with the in-laws in Malta. Sunshine, warmth, morning sleep-ins - graciously provided by grandma & grandad - felt like paradise.

We're seeing the year out very relaxed - the situation with my relative is continuing, and getting worse, putting a bitter dampener on the joy we see ahead... but looking ahead to 2016 is for a new post.

Building a life

We're a family.  Have been for a few years now. We're building a shared life: first as a couple... then came a home of our own... a dog... a baby... and another baby on the way now.

Family: the settled everyday adventure

Until I met Mr. and we started building this life together, my highest goal in life was freedom. Flexibility. I loved being able to say I could pack two bags and be off tomorrow, into the sunset - and for years, I could have done that and sometimes I did. Aged 22, I packed my bags and went, one week after telling my family I was going to move to New York.

After a while there, I packed my bags again and moved to Virginia. I would have stayed but it wasn't possible, so I packed again - six weeks before having to leave the country when my visa expired I had no idea at all where I was going to go, then I met a lovely couple from the UK and they said, hey, why don't you move over there. So I did that.

With the exception of leaving Austria, I never moved away from a place because I could no longer stand it there. Funny enough, looking back, I would have stayed longer in each place but circumstances forced my moves... but the point was that in principle, I could leave whenever I wanted. I was never stuck or trapped.

I'm finally free of that need for freedom, which was based in fear! True freedom is not fearing, but loving. I'm building a life and a family that yes, I am stuck with for better or worse. Leaving them would be pretty much impossible: it would tear me apart. Now I know that freedom as I knew it actually meant loneliness.

So many things I used to avoid, I now embrace - in some ways, our life is pretty average (I was always trying not to live an ordinary life...); we are married, with (soon) two kids and a dog, and even an allotment to grow vegetables. Mr has a regular day job and my main work is bringing up baby. We go to church and go on holidays where we stay in hotels or even, gasp, camp.

It looks ordinary from the outside in. But it's the most amazing journey for me.

On not bracing for impact

This post is following a conversation I had with God the other day. I don't want to forget it and move on, I want to dwell on it and change.

There's a reason your young years are called "formative years". They truly are, no matter how much change you go through later... in my formative years, I lost people I loved. I learned that trust is stupid, and that just when I'm having the best of times, the biggest of blows is sure to follow.

So I learned to brace for impact.

Things right now are good, in fact they are wonderful; therefore the blow to come must be devastating. Brace.

Of course this isn't a conscious thought process... but just the other day, I was reflecting on how wonderful life is for me right now and all I've been given and immediately a deep sense of foreboding descended. Of something awful ahead, undefined and vague. The response to that is what I call "bracing for impact" - hardening, not letting people in too close, being as ready as possible for the blow.

And then, as I reflected, I felt God's gentle prompting to stop protecting myself. He reminded me that He is good. He doesn't give good things in order to "soften us up" for the blow ahead. Disasters don't come because we've had it too good for too long.

In fact God himself feels deeply, and He never braces for impact. He feels it all, intensely. He loves fully and completely, and grieves to the depths of grief. Love and grief, devastation and delight - they are divine experiences we get to live. Without God of course it makes sense to brace for impact, because horrible things do happen and without this rock to cling to, we better protect ourselves.

But He reminded me that He's my refuge in times of troubles, if and when they come, but to live to the full today I need to walk tall, love hard, and allow it all. Enter into life. Let my heart be so filled that if it does get broken, it's not just cracked but utterly shattered. That, too, is life.

Maybe one day I can live in the sunshine of today without that sense of foreboding. Maybe the fact I'm even sharing this, despite my sense of unease at "tempting fate" by saying these things out loud, is a step forward.

Why I'm confident in my mothering

So many of my mum friends are anxious about their mothering. They question if they're doing enough, or the right things, or as one mum even put it, whether their babies wouldn't be better off with another mum!

I find this tragic. And I wish there was a way to just give confidence to those that need it, because I think the very fact of your questioning your decisions and thinking through your actions critically means you're already doing more than many. But that's not what I'm here to say today.

I'd like to share a few reasons why I have every confidence in my own mothering abilities. This isn't to boast, but to hopefully help others see that they, too, are doing a fine job.

By the way, I'm the least likely candidate for being a good mother, if a job interview was required for this gig. I never took an interest in children whatsoever; my role models, growing up, were dysfunctional all round; I had a good career going as a marketer. And yet, let me tell you in all humility, I'm doing a perfectly good job right now. What makes me confident of this?

• I'm not afraid she won't love me back.

My mum & me

My mother loved me, of that I have no doubt, and I loved her too. My world as I knew it ended when she died and it took many years before I loved anyone again.
But, with the benefit of hindsight, she didn't do a great job... she really didn't like being a mother, doing all the menial tasks that came with it, and by the time my sister came along (I was 6) she had pretty much checked out of the housekeeping / mothering gig altogether and retreated to her music. I had to follow her there if I wanted her attention, so I learned to play instruments. From my relationship with my mother I learned that as long as you don't actively mistreat your child, it doesn't really matter how else you mess up: they will still love you fiercely with all their heart.

• My role models are right here, and they mentor me.

With this start in life, follwed by three years of bullying and psychological abuse at my aunt's, I saw little good in the idea of family. There were no couples in my world who stayed together because of love. Most divorced; some didn't, however much they loated each other but stayed together for their own reasons. I saw no love filled family lives in my growing up years, none.
But those are not the role models I look to now. I've often said that it took me 10 years of being a Christian before I was ready for a relationship - let alone a family! I spent 10 years being rebuilt from the inside out. God knew I needed that time. In that time I've met, and done life with, several love based families and I saw what a glorious, life-giving thing family could be - and those became my role models. There are many of them around me at our church now, people to ask for advice, to lean on when things get hard, to walk this journey together with.
Moral of the story: your start in life does not need to define you. If you're a Christian, then Christ does, and he will shape you towards love if you let him.

• I trust my instincts.

I believe that at this stage, babyhood, mothering has a lot to do with instinct. Later on I will have a little person with wishes, desires, emotions and ideas to deal with; for much of the first year however, the issue at hand is more about keeping baby alive and happy and not much else. I read some good baby books (highly recommend BabyCalm and any of La Leche League's books, especially Sweet Sleep and the Art of Breastfeeding) but nowhere near as much as I could have done. Perhaps I was lucky, more likely I have God to thank for it, that these are the books I started with rather than some of the more popular books which I have since learned more about and I see how they only serve to make mothers anxious.
Since time began, about half of humanity has given birth and reared children - successfully, or we wouldn't be here. I take great courage from that. There are definitely instincts at play, and they can be trusted. I don't go against them. When my baby cries, I comfort her, whether it's day or night (and guess what, at night my mere presence is enough comfort to her - her crying at night is extremely rare); I keep her in close physical contact; I feed her when she's hungry. It's simple really and we're both quite relaxed in it all.

• I learn on the job, and from the best: the Father himself

In a church I was part of in America, the pastor was an incredible father figure to all the young people. He just had that warmth, that strength, he just drew people to him and he was like a father in the whole church. One day his wife told me his story - that he was his mother's first son, out of wedlock, and when she married he became his stepfather's punching bag. He grew up in a worse place than the family dog: basically everyone's slave, rather than part of the family, he did not eat at the family table but had to hope for scraps; he slept in the garage; and other than for beatings, there was little interaction between him and his stepfather. He knew nothing of what a father was meant to be. When he himself became a father - by then he was a Christian - he knew how out of his depth he was, and whenever he didn't know what to do (for example, when one of his kids misbehaved or wanted something he wasn't sure was a good idea) he would tell them to sit on a step outside his office and he'd go inside to pray and ask God what to do. I met both his kids and they told me of waiting on that step waiting to hear what would happen. That pastor literally learned how to parent from God, and by the time I met him - both his kids were adults then - he was a natural father figure to many people.
It's been at least 8 years since I moved away from that church but this story has stuck with me because I, too, need God's help in my parenting. To be fair, probably everyone does because we're all fallible, but perhaps I'm more conscious of it than most because I have no internal resources (role models) to draw from. I've seen Ken with my own eyes, known him and his family and their lives, and I've seen what God can do - so I trust that he can do the same for me. It's not a vague concept but a real help at the time I need it: I know that at the very moment when I'm overwhelmed, or I don't know what to do, I can stop right there and take a moment and ask my heavenly Dad. He knows. He'll tell me. I truly believe that.