As the rain pitter patters on our windows which incidentally haven’t been cleaned since they were installed (but we live in a cull de sac and we can see out of them), I sit quietly and think of the past. Boy is about to finish Reception, I remember the excitement of going to school. In Reception we played with water, we sat and listened to Peter and the Wolf. I remember the Horse Chestnut tree which dominated the playground and the thrill of finding chestnuts for the first time. It troubles me a little that the Boy does not appear to have these happy memories.

I sit here with baby Ned and am reminded of when Boy was a tiny baby and then Fifi. I felt rushed off my feet then too, however I didn’t have the awareness to remind myself that this is a precious age. These moments when they are truly yours are few and far between in life. I am completely spent, so bone weary that I have trouble seeing straight. Yet, I do in some strange way feel like my life is complete. In many ways it feels like this is it, that there is no more for me to do. I am complete.

There is something about this weather which makes one feel quite insular and reflective. I’d happily never go out again, I’d happily live in a tiny little cottage on a cliff in the middle of a field, I’d happily eek out my days reading books and cooking magnificent cakes. None of which I have the luxury of being able to do.

The peace is shattered as quickly as it comes in our house, perhaps that’s why I enjoy the moments when I can hear nothing but the rain drumming against the windows. One of the things that I struggle with is the constant noise and the endless physical contact required by small children. I read once that nuns eat in peace, total silence. I can understand the reverence in this now.

When I have had moments in my life where I have needed to mentally take myself away from the situation I am in and find somewhere else I always think of the seaside. A cold, windswept place with no-one about, except for oystercatchers and their distinctive cry.

Stress is a funny thing, I find myself stressed about the small things and about the big things. It’s a vicious circle and a trap which once you fall into is difficult to escape from. A certain amount of stress is derived from worry about your children, your life; where you are going and what you are doing. For me, I am also stressed by the constant harassment by children to entertain or attend. I don’t think this happened to Victorian women. Children were sent out into the street to play. I find it hard to deal with.

Sometimes I wonder if I am living in the wrong time, the wrong place or living the wrong life. I am not unhappy, I just don’t have time to think. Space. Time to sit and think and listen to the rain is so rare that my brain goes into overload. I quite like this rain, I quite like being reflective. I wish I could do more of it.


5 Responses

  1. Aussie Mum 17th July 2012 / 12:09 pm

    So nice that you were able to find a moment today to be reflective and to share it with us. So often with three kids I find a moment to reflect but never seem to find the time to record it in some way. Thanks for sharing – thinking of you all. xxx

  2. Clare Rudd 18th July 2012 / 1:04 pm

    Lovely reflection. Reflective practice is a part of what we have learnt in my uni course, and I think its such a great skill to have. It definitely makes you appreciate what you have around you and make syou a better person. Rain makes me reflect too! Something about washing away the old and starting afresh…

  3. Jen Walshaw 18th July 2012 / 1:27 pm

    The funny thing is I used to feel the same and now I have whole parts of the day without children, without noise and on my own and I am lonely. I miss them. I want a nice part-time term time only job, to fill those hours

  4. Fiz 19th July 2012 / 8:57 pm

    I promise it will get easier. Fifi will be at school soon. I miss my little ones. They are know it alls of 25 and 21. You are the most wonderful person in the world to your three at the moment. I know it is hard, but try to treasure it. You will regret it when it passes.

  5. Metropolitan Mum 22nd July 2012 / 1:38 pm

    Love and hugs to you. Three small children to look after must be exhausting. I know I couldn't do it! Dxx

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