Seven Years A Mother

Number One turns seven today. He was up at six, dressing in his favourite t-shirt and shorts, ready for the Lego Movie themed party that would begin eight hours later. I hadn't the heart to tell him that he won't really be seven till a few minutes before midnight. 

At six am on the day he was born I was pacing our apartment, excited and nervous, breathing through contractions that had been coming and going since 4am, blissfully unaware that I had another eighteen hours of this ahead of me and ignorant to the fact that that life would never be the same again.

You see, if it wasn't for motherhood, there are a lot of things that would be different in my life. 

I'm so shy, I would never have joined a local club or committee for myself. But now I'm a long-serving member of the kindergarten parents' council.

I do not flinch at snot, poo, wee or vomit landing on my hair, clothes or skin. This was not always the case. 

I don't think of time as mine any more but rather I think of time running in parallel - mine, my children's, my husband's and other people's - sometimes it overlaps.

I am wiser than I used to be. As my children grow older, I find that my negotiation and project management skills have developed and improved. 

I laugh every day and smile so much I'm getting wrinkles. My pre-child wrinkles are all from frowning.

Life was always good to me. But since I became a mother life has been its best yet.

Unbeknownst to me my neighbour gave birth to her first child this morning at 6.09. I wonder, does she realise the adventure she has started out on? 

Is it really that hard to be kind?

It struck me recently that people say to me a lot "You're so nice" or "You're so good". It is usually after I have done something unremarkable like bake a cake when they are coming to visit, bring something homemade when I visit them, offer to mind their kids for an afternoon so they can pack for their holidays, ask them if they need anything brought back from Ireland, etc. 

To me, those acts of kindness are not something to be amazed about. To my mind kindness should be a normal trait in people. I was brought up by kind, helpful people and taught that there are certain things that you just do, like 
 - Sending condolence cards.
 - Sharing your homemade / homegrown produce with friends or neighbours.
 - Offering help to others if you see that they need it, be that helping someone lift their pram down stairs, picking up something an elderly person has dropped, letting the person in the supermarket queue who only has two items go ahead of you, and so on. 
 - Entertaining guests for the pleasure of it - from birthday parties and dinner parties to inviting a friend who has called by to stay for dinner.

More and more I find that people exclaim how good and kind others are but don't take up the baton and be kind themselves. Frankly I find it sad that there is a need for the organisation Random Acts of Kindness. They offer kindness resources and daily inspiration. If we've come to a stage where people need that, then ok - use it. But have we really come to the stage where we have to learn how to be kind? 

I realise that life is very busy for most of us and many find that just managing to get through the day is stressful enough. But that is no excuse. Being kind doesn't take a lot of time or a lot of thought. You just need to open your eyes and act on what you see. You don't need to remember everyone's birthday or look after all the children in the neighbourhood. But open your eyes! Smile and say hello to the old man who passes you in the street. Bake a cake for the school bake sale. Offer people a cup of tea when they call to visit. Say a sincere thank you to the parcel delivey guy. Hold the door open for the person behind you when leaving a building. There are so many small ways to be nice and kind without it costing you the earth or taking up your time.  

There is a saying, treat others as you would like to be treated. My fourth class teacher told us that. Is it really so hard to do?

This is Motherhood #3

Forgetting that you said you'd call to your neighbour on his 50th birthday, you end up having to rush to the supermarket shortly before closing time to buy a bottle of wine. Baby, of course, is not impressed with suddenly being flung into the car seat and decides to scream at the top of his lungs as you power walk through the aisles to find a decent bottle of Spanish wine (the neighbour's preferred country of origin - naturally, you want it to look like you put a lot of thought into this gift). Wine safely stowed in the trolly, you speed walk in the direction of the check-out before coming to an abrupt stop. Gordon's Gin is on special offer and hubby loves it. Add to trolly, proceed to check-out. Lift baby out to console him. Breath sigh of relief. Notice the smiles of the woman in front of you when she catches the baby's (teary) eye then notice how her gaze sinks to the contents of your trolley...two bottles of alcohol and nothing else. Turn on heel and power walk, steering trolley with one hand and carrying baby in the other, to the wine aisle and search desperately for wine bottle gift bags. Grab the nicest looking one (preferably with something like "A Gift For You" in large gold writing so it is clear to everyone that at least one of these bottles is not for your own consumption) and head back to the now even longer queues for the check out. Wait and wait and wait then pay and head home with your screaming baby. Get the older children to bed and ask hubby to call to the neighbour before it is too late. Hear the garden gate clink as he leaves. Hear the garden gate clink again a minute later. No-one home. Seems they forgot too that you said you'd call over. Sit down and open the gin.