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.