Bonding with Charlie – Darren Mattock

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From the time Charlie was 6-months of age, Tuesday nights have been father-son time. When he was 18-months, on ‘our’ night, I took him down to the river before sunset. We wandered down over the rocks down to water’s edge together, Cha in my arms, to explore. I put him down safely, and then began throwing some rocks into the water; something I used to love doing as a boy. We stayed there, in that spot, until the sun went down, laughing, talking, playing, and bonding. It was simply magical. Continue reading

Being a Dad is Awesome ~ Darren Mattock

darrenandcharlie

I always knew that I wanted to be a dad. There was never any doubt or question about it, but I was very clear about one thing: I had to wait until the right time in my life and for the right person to share that experience with. I met Lucy when I was 30. She was mum to two-year-old twins, Cooper and Rani. We fell in love, began a relationship and I soon became a step-dad. One of our shared visions was having a child together and I knew it would happen with Lucy when it was time.  Continue reading

Paint me with Red Dirt

desert wanderer

My head is buzzing at a frenetic pace. I hear the hum of my daily chores as I blunder through the list of things I do to achieve a happy household. Who am I kidding? I am not even aiming at happy. Most days I am shooting for functional. Like bare basics.

Are you fed? Are your teeth grimy? Did I read to you today? Are you okay? Continue reading

Moment to Moment Mothering

woman-on-cliffs-edge

My life is a hurricane, most days. My children show me this. They do it the only way children can.  Act up. Chaos finds me on these days. You know the sound of chaos. It crashes loudly on the shore of your soul. It creeps up to the fringes, and like any tide it rushes in around your feet and surrounds you completely. It has the same suffocating effects of water and it penetrates the smallest of gaps.

These are the days that I spread myself too thinly. I blame the house work, social and business media, my mother’s expectations, the fact that I like to make my husband think I am coping beyond his expectations – and my own. Often my children are adrift in that tide, screaming back to me on the shore. Continue reading

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