I am a mother in a room
With violence and terror
On a television, I switch it off
For silence and
I am a mother bending low
Pushing new life from my body.
A baby in my arms,
Safe and warm. Continue reading
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
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