Online version of my weekly parenting and lifestyle column in The Nationalist.
Tuesday 23 August 2016
I’m writing this with half an eye on the kids as they play in the garden. My littlest is following his big sisters every move, idolising her, her shadow. She has replaced me as the object of his affection and anything she can do, he must follow suit. ‘Mawn Evay’ is uttered countless times during the day, as he reaches for her hand and they set off on some mischievous adventure or another. I love seeing the dynamic between the kids. Each of their three personalities similar in ways and yet very different. Strengths shining through even at such young ages. My oldest son’s innate confidence, my daughter’s fierce determination and my littlest boys absolute need for independence. I love watching them grow, seeing their bonds deepening as they explore together, learning from each other. Making memories that they’ll carry through life. They are close, my three babies. Friends at this age, although I do have to referee more frequently as they grow. I can hear the shutter of the camera as my husband watches them too, through his lens. Seeing something different than I do. Adding to the thousands of photographs already waiting to be printed.
Sometimes as I watch them growing and changing before my eyes, I try to imagine what the future will hold for them. I wonder what career paths they might follow or where their travels will take them, or what kind of partners they might choose to share their lives with. I hope they will remain close and that even if they are separated by land and sea, the bond that they share now will remain strong, as they count on each other, friends as well as family. I hope they will always hold a soft space for each other – the people that know them best in life and that loved them first. It’s hard to picture them grown, and gone from me, even though that separation is a natural one and happens a little bit more each day. I hope that I’m preparing them well for the future. I hope that I’m giving them the coping skills they will need for the very many challenges that life, no doubt has in store for them.
Sometimes I have to remind myself to stop more often. To watch them a little more closely. To listen a little bit more attentively and to play with a little more abandon, to drink it all in, knowing that I will never have this time with them again. Someday they will climb out of my bed for the last time or not need the reassurance of my hand in theirs crossing the road. They will need me in different ways, rather than the all-consuming survival needs of these formative years.
My babies are like jigsaw pieces that combine to make up the whole puzzle of me. I hope that throughout the years, even as pieces are misplaced and get tattered around the edges, they will always be easily reassembled.
