Friday, July 30, 2010

30.7.10 ~ 100 word diary (a boy & his scooter)

Jake’s been a bottomless pit today. So far he’s eaten 2 bowls of cereal, 2.5 slices of toast, grapes, a clementine, 2 frankfurters and neat Philadelphia. We also went to the park to try out his new scooter. I ended up carrying him and the scooter, but he had a go. He sat on a bench to eat his clementine, then went through my bag looking for more food. Instead he found my notebook and pen. At naptime, he spent some time poking me and giggling before he finally fell asleep, hugging moo-cow and snoring like a bunged up snuffalufagus.

Thursday, July 29, 2010

29.7.10 ~ 475 words on my worst habit (previously entitled: the crap that f**cks up your life)

This morning I got angry over the stupidest things. It seemed to come out of nowhere and I wasn’t able to control my irritation. It resulted in me shouting at Jake because we were late taking him to nursery and he refused to leave the house and carried on playing with his leapfrog books which I’d asked him to put away. I was also swearing and muttering under my breath. At one point I muttered, “If you don’t go to nursery I’m going to go crazy and kill myself.” It made me stop. And think about what I’d said. It shocked me. The power of those words. How damaging they could be, if he’d understood them. Taking the blame for my crap. He may not have understood the words but he’s sensitive enough to pick up on the bad feelings I was giving out. It made me think of myself as a child, confronted by my angry mother. I know that beating myself up doesn’t help, but in that moment, I did not know what else to do. Forgive myself for saying and thinking and feeling such a thing? How could I?

When I told him we were going to nursery he said No! and turned his face away. I had to tell him we were going there because I didn’t want to lie on top of everything else and then have to see him upset when he realised the truth. On the way there, knowing I couldn’t leave him like this, I stopped and apologised for shouting. I told him it wasn’t his fault, that I was in a bad mood, and I kissed him. I don’t know what he made of it. When we got to the nursery, he cried and said No! and clung to me. It may have happened anyway, but it felt like it was my fault, because I’d been angry and mean to him. Because I’d dragged him out of the house angry when all he wanted to do was play. What if he felt he was being punished by being left there? It made me even angrier because I don’t want to hurt him but in moments like that, I feel so powerless.

Later I realised where the anger was coming from from. Leaking out of old wounds, unspoken, unresolved crap that should have been screamed out of me years ago. Years worth of them. I can blame the counselling, the agonising excavation that is bringing this raw pain to light. But it’s been going on for a long time, so long it's become a habit, a way of being.  I want to change, I think I am trying to change, but for now, knowing this doesn’t change the fact that it’s bloody hard to live with. Even harder when I know it hurts the people around me.

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

28.7.10 ~ 235 word diary (the things we do not know)


After a break last week, I returned to my “excavation” today. Yesterday I was telling Paul how I thought having counselling would be about having someone objective to talk to. I thought I knew myself pretty well and didn’t see how a stranger could know more or help me much beyond listening.

But since it began, I’ve realised I don’t know myself as well as I thought and there are many things I don’t understand. So I’m having to put myself entirely into someone else’s hands, trusting someone again for the first time in many years. I told my counsellor this and she asked if it was hard to do. In fact, it’s easy. It’s easy to trust her because I know where she stands. My relationship with her is safe. It’s hard knowing that, that my other relationships do not feel safe in comparison. It’s hard admitting it, because it sounds so irrational. And because it goes so deep I can’t see how it’s going to come good. But that’s also about trust. Letting go of needing to know how it will work and trusting in the process. No matter how blurred and fuzzy things seem right now.

After our recent frenetic, people-filled holiday, it was lovely to have just Jake’s company again today. When other people are around I feel like I lose my connection with him. It was comforting to get it back.

27.7.10 ~ 140 word diary (love tokens)

We see Tony & family off to Edinburgh for their three-day trip. Jake says goodbye to Alyx and then asks for her as soon as they leave. Paul has the day off so we take Jake to Coram’s fields and then Waitrose when the rain gets more persistent. On Marchmont Street, I see objects embedded in the pavement. They are duplicates of the love tokens on display at the Foundling Museum nearby. Items that mothers leaving their children at the Foundling Hospital (in the 18th Century) would leave with their child, to identify them in case they could ever afford to have them back, or for them to have some reminder or connection to their roots, though the children themselves never received them. Seeing them on the pavement was poignant and resonant. Findings from an excavation of a lost childhood. 

26.7.10 ~ 100 word diary (stonehenge & salisbury cathedral)

It’s a travel day. Scenic bus from Swanage to Bournemouth Station via Studland and the Sandbanks ferry. Then a train to Salisbury via Southampton. Then a bus to Stonehenge, which is more beautiful and awe-inspiring than my jaded London self expected. Also peaceful, despite the large numbers of tourists walking around it. We spend the rest of the afternoon in Salisbury, in the cathedral (where Jake asked for his bucket and spade when he came across the water font) and then having an early dinner at Wagamama. It only starts to rain as we get on the train towards London.

NB> The battery on my camera died sometime the day before so these are taken on my camera phone.

Salisbury Cathedral - I think this was the baptismal font.

Of course when Jake saw it,
he immediately asked for his bucket and spade.

I'm not a religious person
but I do enjoy the beauty and peacefulness of churches.
This tree was in the courtyard and echoed
with an engraving I'd seen inside the cathedral
with a quote from one of TS Eliot's poems.
"The moment of the rose and the moment of the yew tree are of equal duration."
It had me pondering for some time and I like that.

The Gallery: Nature

From our recent trip to Durlston National Park in Swanage, Dorset. 

For more nature shots, head over here.

25.7.10 ~ 100 word diary (a train, a castle, a boat & the uploaded in wrong sequence thanks to a glitch on blogger)

On our boat trip
(these were supposed to be inserted later on in this post
but blogger is being frigging annoying and not loading
them in the sequence that I want!!!)

Moon over the pedal boats
(at the end of our day)

My friend M joined us today for a ride on the steam train to Corfe Castle. The castle is more enjoyable than I expect. And the weather is glorious once again. In the afternoon, we eat lunch in the park, watch a band of morris dancers and then go for a bumpy boat trip along the Jurassic coast. After M leaves us, we go for a yummy curry, during which Jake sat happily, eating rice, poppadoms and kulfi and grinning from ear to ear. On the walk back to our hotels, we catch the full moon rising over the water.

On the steam train coming back from Corfe Castle

No Mummy, of course I'm not sleepy.

Yep, he's dropping off...

This looks posed but it really wasn't!

For Na x

24.7.10 ~ 100 word diary (our big boy hikes & beautiful skies)

During a stunning hike in Durlston National Park, clambering over rocks, the sky open and blue above us, we are all happy. Even Jake climbs up and down paths when he can and run-run-runs along the road when we get onto it. On the bus back to town, the driver sings along and does all the motions during a rendition of The Wheels On The Bus. I have the best fishcake and chips ever for lunch. And a dinner of slow-roasted pork belly and chorizo mash for dinner. Jake plays with Alyx in the garden, the boys play pool, the girls have chocolate tarts for dessert. It’s a fantabulistic day.


At Durlston, with Uncle Tony

Yes, we did go on a hike with a pram.
Paul later ended up carrying it.

Jake did really well and walked almost
as much as we did.

Happy little nature boy.

Running, running!

On the beach in the evening,
just before Paul & Alyx braved the water and went in.

At The Crow's Nest

23.7.10 ~ 100 word diary (the oblivious birthday boy & the first day of our holiday)

Jake’s 2nd birthday. We sing happy birthday and he looks at us like we’re out of our minds. We give him some of his presents and I notice that he has fewer cards than last year. He’s not ill this year so people have forgotten. We arrive in Swanage and I realise I’ve left my bag in the cab. I get it back though it costs us another cab fare. We have a mediocre lunch by the sea and then stand on the beach shivering in the wind, eating icecream. Dinner is also forgettable but we’re on holiday and happy.

22.7.10 ~ 100 word diary (family!)

On the tube to pick Tony & family up, I read The Girl Who Played with Fire. The sense of detachment I’ve been feeling lately stays with me all day, even after we see each other. After about 3 minutes of clinging to me, Jake takes to them like a duck to water, particularly his cousin Alyx with whom he started building tower blocks straight away. With so many people around, I am no longer his centre of attention. I take them on a walk to the marshes, when Jake fell asleep. But they manage to stay awake until 7:30pm.

Thursday, July 22, 2010

Bubba Jake ~ 2 years old...

 My little boy, my pride and joy, my heart and soul.  Two years old tomorrow! 
We'll be on our way to the seaside to celebrate, so this is going up today.

Thank you for making me a Mummy.

A few hours old

One week old
"Where's the milk Daddy?"

6 months, baby led weaning fun
When he was still chubby!

11 months

1st birthday and a couple of weeks before
he went into hospital.
Looking back we can see how ill he looked.

18 month old stoma baby helping Mummy
with the laundry :-)

23 month old Dude