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.

Towards living the dream

On honeymoon

We dream together. My man and I - we dream.

Growing up in a deeply dysfunctional, stifling household I dreamed of escaping to America. That dream kept me alive in my teens, when the bullying at home wore me down and freedom after freedom was being clipped from my life, like prison walls closing in ever further. It was about getting away, but it became a very specific place - America - and I worked towards it. The one freedom I knew they'd never take away was my academic studies, so I targeted everything I did academically to being able to move there. I chose a college where I would be able to get a recognised degree. I worked, I networked, and... I got there eventually.

Was it my salvation? No - by the time I went, the situation had changed and I was already free: but I couldn't stay, either. I couldn't not go after working so hard for such a long stretch of my life. So I went, I lived the dream, and while it was hard most of the time there (NYC is hardly an easy place to "make it") the knowledge that I was living the dream meant I loved it. After some years of struggle I was finally willing to move back to Europe, not because I gave up the dream but because I had fulfilled it.

I'm a practical person. To me, a dream is only worth dreaming if I have a hope of making it come true.

And so, my man and I, we have a dream too. It's not mine alone, or his - I never even thought of doing this before I met him, and I'm pretty sure neither did he. But as we thought about our life together and what we want out of it, this dream was born, and we are actively working on getting to live it.

Like my dream of America, it won't happen overnight. It will mean years of work. But I'm patient like that, I will work on achieving this. I will make sacrifices because they won't feel like sacrifices when they become stepping stones towards the goal.

On honeymoon

We dream of sailing.

We dream of the day that we swap our river boat for a yacht and just leave. We'll explore the world, but mostly the nice warm places - the Caribbean, the Southern Pacific. We'll dive. We'll live on very little money, we'll probably work seasonally, and we'll love it.

Why are we in this rat race? Why is my Mr. working long hours, getting ulcers with the stress, only able to see his daughter in the evenings and weekends? What are we trying to achieve by doing that? Whatever it is, it's not what we want, thanks very much. We want to grow old on the seas. Live on island schedules, not tight deadlines. Our child(ren) will have rich educational experiences, not only aboard, but every time we spend time on land. Maybe when we're working seasonally, they'll attend local schools for a while. They'll certainly not lack learning opportunities, as the Internet's everywhere now - and socialisation? A tightly-knit family provides that, and living aboard does not mean being hermits; it actually means you get to meet many more people than most land dwellers do. Boaters are an incredible community.

There are many things I'm thinking through already, that are years in the future. As I said, I'm a practical person through and through. This dream is one of the reasons we won't send our child(ren) to school here - that would take the flexibility away that we need. And we want them to be self directed learners anyway. The dream is why I'm learning how to sail. It's why we're paying off our mortgage next year. No ties, no debts, nothing to hold us back when we are ready to go.

On honeymoon

But we can't go tomorrow, or next year - and that's OK. Baby's grandparents have just moved to be near us, and we're so grateful that they are here and being supportive and enjoying being part of baby's life. We wouldn't want to walk away from that, not now. Also, there are a few more years Mr. has to work until his earliest possible retirement date, and we may decide to wait that out - but not sure yet.

There's also a possible intermediate step. Mr's company has a site in America at the Mexican Gulf coast; if it was possible for him to be transferred there, we might be able to get the grandparents to move there with us and live there for a few years, live on land and keep a sail boat to use on weekends and holidays - get into it slowly, so to speak. That would be a lovely, gentle stepping stone towards taking the full plunge. I'd like that.

We'll see. But what I know is, dreams are for living, and one day we'll be living ours.

Baby routine: no, thanks

My beautiful friend Kristy-Lee has started a Youtube Channel (link). She's a mum of five and puts up videos with how-to's on various topics, do have a look, she's great. With five kids, she's got lots of experience to draw from! What she does clearly works for her family - and knowing them, I can see it really does! One of her videos, "5 bedtime tips" is what prompted this post... I've been thinking lots about routines in the past few months.

Kristy certainly isn't the only person I've heard singing the praises of bedtime routines: everyone does, it seems! So why do I have an instinctive resistance inside?

Obviously every family is dfiferent and Kristy's way works for her family, but for mine, I can't contemplate any real routine apart from what happens naturally and organically anyway. I've thought about it a lot. And I think the vision that's beginning to form certainly isn't for everyone....

Hashing out the arguments

Feeding to sleep:
yeah, we do that.

A routine is something that happens every day, in the same order, and at (more or less) the same time. It's supposed to help babies and kids to get to sleep more easily, and give them a certain security - knowing what's going to happen next. I can see the argument for that, especially having worked with people with learning disabilities - knowing what's expected and what's going to happen next is helpful to many.

My instinctive reaction is based on not wanting to be chained to a routine, though. I see it in some friends' lives. Naptimes are off-limits each day; and come, say, 7pm, every single day, they have no freedom to do anything or go anywhere because the almighty routine demands absolute adherence. No matter what. And God forbid it's disturbed! The kids are seriously out of balance. Meltdowns and tantrums.

I don't want that!

Is it naive to think that having a loose approach can work? From what I hear from my routine-using friends, even with a routine there are daily battles and difficulties, as just because the kids know the routine does not mean they will follow it cheerfully! So a routine isn't going to give us an easy life. So I just fail to see what the advantage is of chaining ourselves to a timetable.

What I do want (all this and maybe a unicorn too)

Brushing her gums
(no teeth as yet)

I want to be able to go places in the evening and do things, with baby - and yes, with kids if and when we have more than one - and have her/them either go to sleep there or stay awake. I want naptimes to be semi-flexible, as they are now: we have a general idea when she'll sleep but she might her first nap at 10am the one day and after 12 noon the next, all depending on what we're doing that day.

Anyhow, where does the notion come from that children need to go to sleep early? Is this because the parents want the evening to themselves, or is there a developmental reason? I don't think there is, and for our family, I'm not worried about having our evenings child free. (In fact I wouldn't mind a lie-in, so if kids are up later, they might sleep in later too, no?)

We are one family, and if kids go to bed too early they'll miss out on dad time, anyway! So kiddo/s are welcome to be up when we are. Perhaps that might actually eliminate some of the bedtime problems, because if I remember correctly from my own childhood, part of the reason I didn't want to go to bed was because I was afraid to miss out on something! I don't want to exclude our kid/s from parts of our lives.

I want to include my kid/s in my life. We belong together. This does mean sacrifices on my part, being selective about activities, and certain things I can't do for the moment. But that is what I signed up to when I got pregnant: perhaps I'm swinging the other way from my own mother, who insisted on living her own life apart from us - I want to do motherhood not as a tacked-on part of what I do, but as very much who I am.

And that's not to say I want my life to revolve around my kid/s. Oh no! I see routine as much more limiting than what I'm proposing. If I had to be at home every day for a certain set of hours, doing the exact same set of things day in and day out, come what may: I would find that limiting. I'd feel trapped.

What I'm proposing is continuing to do what I love, socialising and church activities and friends - doing the things we do, together, as a family. Kid/s fitting into our lives, rather than our lives revolving around their routines.

Am I naive? Yeah, probably - I don't have any experience with kids. But perhaps, just maybe, we can make this work. We'll certainly try.