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Parenthood

Life Lessons, Parenthood, Yoga

The real yoga

My daughter is almost as tall as me.
Her feet are bigger than mine.

She’s 11. I’m 43.

Last year she was 4. At least that’s how it feels…
Oh, the swift pace of this crazy life!

And this parenting malarkey. I’ve not yet nailed it – have you?
Everyday – a new lesson, a new guilt.
A daily reminder that I am human.

This for me is the real yoga.
Forget the headstands, your crow obsession or the depth of your backbend.

Real yoga is about living real life. In all its messy, fast-moving glory.

Can you hold on when the ride gets tough? Can you drop the judgement? Can you sit with yourself and rest in the not knowing…

Because kids will get taller. Their feet will get bigger. Their cheeks no longer chubby.

They’ll borrow your make-up, your money, your car. They’ll make you laugh and smile and drive you bat sh@t crazy.

And they’ll grow before your eyes in what feels like record speed.

So can you pause for a moment – hand on heart – and acknowledge how far you’ve come.

Drop the judgement, drop the worry and drink it all in.

Because each new phase is a reminder of this beautiful cycle of life.

Our biggest yoga practice of all.

Parenthood

There once was a day

There once was a day when she felt a shift.

When she exhaled the grip in her soft belly and thought:
Enough is enough.
An end to the judgment, the constant berating.
The quiet voice inside that shouts:
You’re doing it wrong.
Do it that way. Be more like this. Don’t do that.
Can’t you be more like her?

There once was a day when she hugged her children tight.
Laughed in tandem at her dislike of craft projects.
Her cringe at their desire to ‘help’ bake. Flour strewn on the floor.
When they chuckled at her frowns over forts –
Her frustration over messy rooms.
Socks everywhere,
One always missing.
The laundry exploding from the basket.
Slime that never comes off the carpet –
Delightfully mashed in by careless little feet.

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Parenthood

Hello, anyone in?

“Fff – Uuuhh – Ccc,” says Molly, carefully sounding out the letters phonetically. “What does that spell Mummy?” she asks with a sheepish look on her face. “I think you know fine rightly what that spells, Miss Molly Parsons,” I say sharply. “You tell me.”

“I think it’s a naughty word, Mummy. A word that we might say it if we’re really tired or very cross.”

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Parenthood

Becoming Mum

Something has been happening to me over the last while. It’s a feeling of almost coming full circle. Like I’m finally settling into a newer version of myself. A little battered round the edges perhaps, but one that still bears a strong resemblance to the old me, except with two crazy kids in tow. And if I had to put a title on it, I’d say it was a feeling of ‘becoming mum.’

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Parenthood

Healthy Home

The second child always has to settle for a few hand me downs, and one of those for little Henry has been Molly’s cot and mattress. I’m slightly embarrassed to admit I never got around to cleaning it, so when the team from Healthy Home messaged to ask me if I’d ever had my kids’ mattresses sanitised, I gulped at the thought of what might be lurking in the fibres. And let’s face it, in the lovely dust bowl we live in, children here seem to pick up coughs and colds faster than you can sneeze. Along with being prone to things like asthma, allergies and eczema.

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Parenthood

Short Circuit

It’s 4.37am. I mutter a string of expletives as I haul myself out of bed. I spend the next 45 minutes nipping in and out, trying to encourage Henry to have more shut-eye, before he decides he would rather be up for the day. He gives me that grin that says, quite frankly, Mum, it would be boring to go back to sleep. But instead of smiling, I find myself crying. Hot, fat tears rolling down my face, quickly, without warning. I’m cross. Darn cross at the sheer exhaustion of it all. Cross at the fact the day is beginning at sparrow fart yet again. Cross at the fact that I’m already thinking ahead to how wrecked I’ll feel later. Cross over the guilt I’m feeling for even feeling annoyed, when so many people would give anything to be in my shoes.

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Parenthood

This is your life

I have opened my computer so many times over the past few weeks to write to you, but the words somehow wouldn’t flow. I even googled ‘writer’s block’ to see if that could provide me with any kind of inspiration. Instead it threw up the definition for my ‘creative slowdown’ – a condition that ranges from not being able to come up with new ideas for a few weeks, to not being able to produce anything for years. (Bear with me here, the moral of the tale is coming!)

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Parenthood

Decisions decisions

My mum and dad arrive next week. I can’t wait! Mum’s trips to Dubai usually include a whirlwind of organisation – projects that I’ve wanted to do get finished, things that I’ve craved to get in order suddenly get the Beryl treatment. (Beryl and Cheryl – “the rhyming names reflect the closeness of our relationship,” my mum used to tell me.) When the folks are around, stuff just gets done – and, above all, I’m looking forward to someone else making a few darn decisions for a change.

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