We're Not Just Mum and Dad

Half a century I have been alive for: that’s quite a statement to make. I have been married for more time than I have been single: 28 years (to the same man - in case you’re wondering) which is almost three fifths of my life. I suppose we must be doing something right on the marriage front then. In the year when we have both reached our half century, I have found us to be reconnecting in many ways, almost as my husband said, reinventing ourselves.

We walked along a pebble beach today, just the two of us, and talked. Really talked. When you spend time with your partner on a daily basis you would think that you talk all the time wouldn’t you? Trouble is the subject matter is of daily tasks, meeting times, what the kids or the pets have been doing, all that sort of thing. You don’t touch on the big stuff - for that you need space and time.

A mini break by the sea, without the kids, gave us the context to discuss some pretty big stuff. To air how we feel about the ongoing family pressures may not solve presenting issues but it means you don’t have to hold all your thoughts and feelings about it inside your head, for you alone to be processing. This month has seen some big decisions on my part and having the time to talk about them, whilst the waves provide their calming soundtrack was a much needed therapeutic experience. There is something about the sea that touches the soul and it has almost a magical effect upon me - allowing my mind to drift into a floating state instead of its usual racing around agitation.

The phrase ‘headspace’ is heard increasingly and I was sceptical initially about it - surely it’s all just a bit hippy-like? This year, I have come to see the value of giving yourself time for some headspace, even if it was a term I would never have known or used ten years ago. As we walked and talked and sat in the November sunshine, the effects of sharing worries and taking calming measures washed over me, just like the waves would have if I had been brave enough to step into them.

Just having time together, away from the pressures of our work lives and the busy context of the family home, does in itself give you a freedom to appreciate each other and the little joys of being in each other’s company. When your parental responsibilities have lessened to a level that you can actually go out together without the kids, there is a feeling of stepping into the unknown all over again. The first time you do it, perhaps just for a meal out together, you sit there spending all evening talking about the kids and whether they’ll be okay at home. You have a feeling that actually you only function now as a parent and panic that perhaps you have nothing left to say to each other beyond how the parenting is working.

Then you repeat the freedom experience and if you’re lucky, like us, get to a point where you can trust the kids to be left at home whilst you go away for a night or two. This is where the reinventing really takes place. No longer just Mum and Dad, you find yourselves back in that couple role which has at times felt like a distant memory from our youth. Holding hands to walk along together, giggling about an amusing point of conversation, happily sharing the joys of being ‘in the moment,’ to coin the latest mindfulness mantra, is all reminiscent of a time before the weight of responsibilities pressed upon our shoulders. Work-life balance has eluded us lately. Family pressures have impacted upon us. So giving each other space and permission to talk about it all and to step away from such stresses, albeit for just a short time, has felt invaluable.

It is so easy when we all have such busy lives and demanding workloads to power on through the days and weeks and months without paying attention to the little things. It is important to press the pause button occasionally and just notice the details of your life. Somewhere along the way we got so caught up in working and making choices to suit other people that we forgot about ourselves.

Since returning from this short break, the little oasis of time and space, it’s amazing how quickly you plunge back in to the mundane and the turbulence of family crisis or work deadlines. At least, I have found that we are aware that it’s happening. We’re still talking about how we can continue to make time and space for each other. It’s a challenge that remains to be worked at and, I guess, as the Christmas frenzy cranks up, one that will prove more and more elusive for a while. We can’t make such grand gestures like booking rooms away on a regular basis but we have to look at the little things. Looking to the future, we need to give ourselves a break from it all more often. Pause, breathe, laugh or watch the sunset together. Do whatever it takes to put yourself as a couple at the top of the pile for a moment. For although, being Mum and Dad is the best job to have and a privilege to be given, we’re not defined by only that and it is time, perhaps, to be so much more.

Into the Woods.

Autumn has long been my favourite season- it’s such a treat for all the senses. The spectacular colour treat that meets your eyes as you walk past trees - like artistic masterpieces on show without the need for a visit to a gallery, just emerging in the sunshine or fluttering on a breeze, even being reflected in a puddle from an autumn shower. The sounds that accompany the fallen leaves, crisp under your boots to remind you of a time when adult restraint didn’t keep you from stopping in the street to scoop up an armful of leaves and throw them high over your head to watch them fall all around you.

Then there’s the tastes and smells of autumn - many I am sure are inextricably linked to my childhood experiences. The smell of a bonfire reminds me of standing in a dark park, wrapped up in hat, scarf, gloves and coat waiting for the fireworks display. The joy of slowly chilling to the bone was the thought that when you got home, Mum’s sausages and jacket potatoes would be ready to warm you up, along with a cup of cocoa. Nowadays, it’s hot chocolate, rather than cocoa. That may sound like a subtle difference but the cocoa of my childhood was a simple affair whereas today’s offerings are one of luxury velvety chocolate, cream and marshmallows towering above the drink below.

The clocks turning back time at the end of October signals the shortening of days and to some seems a foreboding signal of darker times but this has never worried me. Without dark there is no beauty in candlelight, flickering bonfires or twinkling fairy lights that adorn homes and gardens during the festive season. Autumn has its own beauty, in nature’s display and in bringing people together, sheltering at home from the cold or sharing time together in celebratory mood whether that be for Halloween, Diwali, bonfire night, thanksgiving, Hanukkah or Christmas - indeed any other festival or celebration that brings family, friends and groups together. There’s something about gathering as a group at this time of the year. I’ve always liked the colours that appear on the autumn fashion rail and the sparkles that scatter themselves across the party outfits. Perhaps I just get caught up in the romance of it all?

It’s also an annual reminder of life’s ongoing circle, an outlandish flurry of colour and splendour before winter’s metaphorical sleep and end, whilst beneath it all is the promise of the first snowdrop and a spring awakening fresh and renewed next year.

As I write this, I’m taken up with the question of whether I am now entering my own autumn. The Spring of my youth is certainly long gone, although glimpses of those carefree days have come to the forefront of my mind as I’ve scanned through old photo albums or discussed memories with my own teenage children when they ask those recurring questions of ‘What did you do when you were that age, Mum?’ The spring-like eagerness you have when you’re finishing school, finding work, getting married and looking to the future seems somewhat naive with hindsight sometimes, but it sees you through the difficulties of setting up your adult life.

Summer - known by many for its long days, idyllic peaceful retreats with opportunities to paddle in the waves and eat ice cream, has also its fair share of pests: persistent wasps at a picnic, hay fever hindering your enjoyment of the outdoors and sometimes a humidity and heat that’s almost too much to bare. All in all, a good metaphor for the adult life I’ve had so far - nurturing a family, married relationship and a career path through all such highs and lows.

So now I stand in my metaphorical autumn wood. It’s my chance to be outrageous with a splendid colourful display, to kick up the crunchy leaves from beneath my boots and sink back on a sofa sampling the velvety smoothness of a hot chocolate. Whether anyone is stopping to watch the display before them or they’re too caught up with their own daily demands to notice another middle-aged mother with something to say, something to offer to others, that’s not for me to decide.

There’s a certain joy to the slow realisation that over time you’ve started to lose some responsibilities and that you can carve yourself a bit of time and personal space. When you notice that your kids don’t need you in quite the same way anymore it can feel a little like you’re a kite whose string has been cut on a windy day. The twists and turns of the journey ahead can leave you plummeting towards the ground some days and soaring through the clouds towards the sunlight on others.

If this is my autumn, then I’m going to emerge myself in all that it brings and show all that I still have to offer. There are some things in life that I can’t control but there are others where I have choices to make. Now is my chance to show my true colours, as the song states, and I intend them to be vibrant russets and golds - the very best that an autumn can show. I may even climb a few trees!

Taking the Plunge!

There are times when it feels like I’m standing on the top diving board with all around me waiting for me to take the plunge but I’m paralysed to the spot and can’t step off. This week this analogy has come flooding into my mind as I feel that the work-life balance is evading me and the stresses that brings, are swirling around me. The scene from Little Mermaid plays its soundtrack in my head - “up where they stay all day in the sun, wandering free, wish I could be, part of that world.” Have you ever felt like you’re desperately trying to swim up to the surface, towards the light and freedom that it promises but you’re being held back, pulled back beneath the waves and all is swirling around you?

Maybe it’s just me? 

Just lately, I have found that I feel as if things are getting on top of me and as they do I have that all consuming sensation of spiralling out of control. Whether it’s just work and home circumstances or a combination of those pressures with adjustments needed again with my anaemia as it’s impacting upon my mood, I don’t know. When you hear people talk about feeling low, but you haven’t been there yourself, you just think there must be a quick fix and after all, we all have days when we feel a bit fed up. Now that I too have found myself in this category, I have been struck by just how overwhelmed I can quickly become. I have always been a logical, rational person but I can see these skills slipping away as the mood takes hold and I spiral down the helter-skelter of emotions.

The high board is where I currently stand, looking at still blue waters far below. A delectable temptation beckons - joining the cool pool of water, but it’s so far away and involves a leap of faith to dive the distance to reach it. So what do you do? Stay rooted to the spot, dive off with a high possibility of making a complete bellyflop on entry to the pool, or be brave enough to ask for help to find an alternative route down perhaps? It may feel like a backwards route, the long flight of steps back down from that precarious height, but there may be something rewarding in retracing those familiar steps and recognising what you achieved along the way on each step in the first place.

A good friend offering a hand to hold as I tentatively start the long climb down has offered wise advice. If you can’t completely change where you currently find yourself, what can you do to improve your situation? I know that I have referenced this in previous blogs, particularly in ‘Diva or Door Mat?’ but I do struggle to stand up for myself. Being proactive in saying what I can and am doing is not a natural part of my makeup. Neither do I find it easy to rock the boat, to make a fuss about things. So do I just let it all build up until I’m in that overwhelmed state? I guess I do or I have done so a lot. So now I recognise at least that I have to listen to friends who may sound harsh at the time, but who are pushing me to do the right thing for all the right reasons.

The best friends don’t always agree with you, they challenge how you feel about things but they do it in a way that you know they’re around if you fall. Think back to when you learnt to ride a bike. You couldn’t keep the stabilisers on for ever - riding around in some falsely constructed safe reality. No. There came a point when you were on those two wheels and you wobbled off down the street. You fell off a bit but you persevered and rode that bike in the end, probably with a parent or sibling cheering or smiling from the sidelines as you did so.

I hope my friends who are making me ride without stabilisers, are quietly smiling to themselves when they see me manage part of this journey. I know they’re looking out for me and sink or swim, ride or fall, they’ll be around to listen, advise or offer a friendly hug. Let’s face it, even a middle aged woman can feel a whole lot better after a comforting hug and a friendly smile.