Today I realised how fast time does fly. I had minimal warning, thanks to a change in legislation very late last year, which meant that the trio were actually eligible this year for school instead of next year. I was not all together prepared for them to start school this year – don’t get me wrong, I am absolutely ok with it, as I think it will be a massive benefit to them, but I had worked on Kindy (again) this year, and Prep for 2016. So this week, they started school. Three little Preppies and a Grade Three’er. Feels as though I blinked and it has all happened so fast.
That horrid feeling. Those two words. Yep, you are likely well versed in the signs and symptoms of mothers guilt. It is a condition commonly felt when you have so many things to do, and have not been able to sufficiently juggle everything to fit *everything* in.
It is a type of guilt that has varying levels. You can feel guilty for your inability to *do* something for your kids, like not being able to take them to the beach/park/play date. Sometimes you just can’t get there. That is generally ok. Then there is the guilt that hangs around like a bad smell, because you work or just can’t do something. You feel as though you are constantly not there enough, not doing enough, not being enough for them. Or that they don’t have the best of everything (like they care), but in all reality, you are. The irony here is that we are our own worst enemies and judge ourselves to all manner of harshness when we just don’t need to!
As this year has flown on by, we enter the final days before Christmas. The wonder, the joy, and the absolute childhood delight that is Santa, Christmas elves and twinkling lights. I see four faces captivated daily by the antics of our elf on a shelf elves – Charlie and Abby. I see four kids faces smile in pure joy looking at the Christmas tree and all the unique and ‘special’ decorations on the tree. Every year we all pick one decoration and buy it, then put in on the tree. We have some amazing decorations!
So many things I do every day, some days the same things repetitively, other days a whole host of other tasks. But are they enough?
I hug and kiss the kids countless times every day, and tell them I love them just as often. But is that enough? Is that enough times to tell them how special and amazing they are in my eyes? Is it too much that they then think they are invincible? Am I finding the correct balance of supporting their growth and development or am I doing to much for them? Am I providing enough educational structure in the daily patterns of life that one day they too can walk independently and survive?
So. Many. Questions. So much self doubt. There is no guide book. There are no rules for this crazy gig called Motherhood. What I let my kids do, others don’t, and vice versa. Then there is the conundrum of comparisons. They have _____; and we don’t. We have _____ and they don’t. Is it a flaw to admit as a mother you don’t actually know all the answers?
As we roll on into November, it is becoming the time of year for all kids concerts/events to be performed. The end of year round up, Christmas shows, you name it; I am sure just about everyone out there has events like this scattered on their calendars where they will be watching dancing, singing, or a variation of the same/both.
The trio have been dancing for nearly all of this year. They had their first concert the other week – a real, big time, on the big stage, ticketed event, for which they practiced, rehearsed and then rehearsed some more. The rehearsals began months ago, and the preparation has been intense to say the least. I have been scared out of my mind on many occasions, wondering how I will be able to apply makeup and this hair piece thing (a ‘wiglet’) appropriately, and not be ‘that mother’ who has a child lose their hair piece during the show. I think the rehearsals were more stressful for me to be honest. A world where clearly, I do not fit in. Limber, lithe dancers of all ages and dance mums; and me a relative gargantuan at 6″2 with no real understanding of the mechanisms of dance concerts, or the need for exactly the right shade of eyeshadow. Now I write this not to be derogatory to anyone but myself – I had no idea what I was getting myself in for when the kids said they wanted to do ‘the concert’.