Step Mum in Training - July (3)

Part 3

The summer months have brought the delightful joy children can have with a garden hose,  a paddling pool and anything else at their disposal.  In our case,  the trampoline & football together with the warm sun, inexpensive super soakers from Lidl and lots of splashing about is bringing hour's of endless fun for the boys in the garden. It's lovely to see them having so much fun. Surprisingly I don't mind the wet muddy foot prints across the floor and up the stairs, the collection of mud splattered soggy towels strewn across doorways and chairs and the swim shorts dumped on the bathroom floor. I remember having similar memories when I was a child in my parents back garden. My dad had made us a 10 foot paddling pool out of breeze blocks and tarpaulin & a see saw-roundabout from a car jack,  a scaffolding plank and a couple of cupboard door handles. We pretty much destroyed the garden but we had so much fun.

We (the parents) now have a code word so that I know to stop and let the husband take over. Like a danger word when I just can't let go of my frustration with whichever child.  So far actually it works, at least it does if I'm paying attention. I don't do myself any favours really. It's easier to prevent a strop turning into a tantrum with little'un if we use the power of distraction, but more often than not I forget and an eruption ensues. Due to the slight shift in who does what, my husband is much more the front runner now and I am more in the background. It has made a significant difference in keeping our home calm, when I let him take the lead with issues.  In a way it's sort of like thinking of myself as a live in housekeeper that lives with children and takes care of all the practicalities rather than as a mum. It may be an odd way of looking at it but for today at least it sort of works. 

Sunday morning before church didn't go as planned and we had to go to the later service. Despite the irritations at the start, I was able to spend some unexpected time getting ready to go out and pay some attention to feeling attractive instead of chucking clothes on and running out the door. It was such a pleasant change to put make up and moisturiser on. To dry my hair properly not just quickly put it up in a bun and check that I didn't put just one earring in again. It makes such a difference when the opportunity to look nice arises rather than whatever is most practical. 

I am by nature a negative person.  This comes as a surprise to me sometimes when I am dancing round the kitchen at work and purposefully trying to make people laugh.  But despite my optimistic outlook overall,  when in a situation I feel unqualified for,  I am negative and anxious. Or more accurately crippled by fear and worry. Whether how I see things has any bearing on reality or not is anyone's guess. I'm doing the best I can but I get it wrong, a lot. I try to overlook the irritations but it's a real struggle. Unfortunately this means that I perhaps have a lop sided view of parenting, only seeing the negative when I should be enjoying the positives too. 

Youngest comes downstairs in clean pj's after a shower. 

Me: 'you have 5 minutes until bed'. 

Small one: 'could I have a drink please?

Me: your drink is on the table.

Small one picks up the cup and tips it backwards over his head. 

Oh good grief! I have no words. (My head drops in disbelief).

We knew the time would come when our youngest started to grieve for the loss of his mum, but that still didn't make it any easier to watch as he began to understand that mummy wasn't coming back,  that he could never cuddle her, and that no amount of crying or question asking would help him remember her.  Up until now it has not really bothered him.  He's been very matter of fact about 'oh my mummy died' if asked where she is or what she does, sometimes asking why but then fine again.  But it has hit him with force and for a 7 year old it must be very confusing. In his sadness, our eldest also feels his pain acutely, privately reliving memories past. To help them move through the pain to brighter thoughts,  we have made a memory wall for the younger in his bedroom of people he loves with pictures of their mum when she was well, when she was a child, being he can see the resemblences and of when he was a baby,  but also pictures of happy times with Grandma and Grandad,  my husband's sister,  his brothers and cousins.  For the elder son we support him in his own way, giving him cuddles when he wants them, recognising a particular type of behaviour is actually the outworking of emotional pain,  and giving him the time to spontaneously light a candle and say a prayer on a visit to Canterbury Cathedral. 

 

This seems to really help the boys and after a 2 or 3 weeks he is back to his old self and had stopped mentioning it so much but instead looks at his wall. 

It's funny how messy and chaotic a house with a family in it gets compared to one that just has adults as its inhabitants. It's a different kind of mess,  a bit like the aftermath of a storm or on some days, hurricane. Things dumped wherever in random places and on walking into a room you just turn round shutting the door. I try my best to keep it under control but is like shovelling snow in a blizzard.

At last it's the last week of term. Older son has his leaving disco before going to secondary school which after transition week he is very much looking forward to,  and younger son moves on from key stage 1 to 2. I say at last, apart from the odd day hubs or my in-laws will be looking after them, I'll be at work. But for a few weeks there are no clubs,  school, after school activities or general running around to do other than football practice. A few weeks of playing in the garden, water fights and lazy days for them,  and a few days away downtime for hubby and I to celebrate our first anniversary and catch up on much needed rest.