Among the most profound and beautiful experiences of my life are the first time I felt my son move inside me and his arrival in the world… I didn’t really have a preconceived idea about how the birth would be. Thanks to my very effective socialisation I never doubted there would be degrees of discomfort but I felt I could ‘handle’ it and was ardently against any ‘unnecessary’ medical interference. I had the (#hindsight) benefit of a mother who’d read Dr Gantly-Reid and Bettelheim; was a La Leche League advocate and refused to use the word ‘pain’ when I asked her whether it would ‘hurt’. I remember I found all this intensely annoying at the time. I had my own ideas about how I would do things; left Gantly-Reid on the Shelf beside ‘The Womanly Art of Breastfeeding’ and ‘Breast is Best’ and told my mother in no uncertain terms that I would not be attending any LLL meetings… thought I knew it all. Second time round I often took those yellow-leafed books from the shelves and looked through them… even long after I knew I wouldn’t need them. Continue reading
This was my ‘room with a view’… a view of a street on the go… during daylight hours the view often proved a distraction to me… its constant stream of people and traffic ebbing and flowing; always something to catch the eye momentarily or hold the attention for a while; to incite the curiosity and induce a fondness for daydreaming and people watching… my attempts at study commonly ended in procrastination; gazing out at the ‘down below’… from four floors up it was the perfect vantage point to watch the world bustle. Continue reading
It’s glorious here… sun shining, sky hazy and practically cloudless, waves lapping the shore… and I’ve unexpectedly found myself with that ever-elusive-to-parents ‘5 minutes peace’. Realistically I have about an hour, maybe a little more, before Ummi duty resumes… so I have taken myself to the beach and here I am, kid-free and coffee in hand, enjoying the rare luxury of ‘watching the world go by’ as I breathe in the perfect sea breeze.
There’s something about the ocean.
I’m caught somewhere between the lightness of it all and a niggling guilt that I chose not to go with the children today… yet despite this… and the bank holiday busyness of the place it is still so. utterly. peaceful… and I relax into absentmindedly people-watching. Continue reading