Real Living... it could almost be the title for one of the hoards of 'Women's magazines' lining the news agent's shelves... yet 'real' is the exact opposite of what they are.
A friend recently passed me on a stack of her mags (living in a foreign country, mags tend to get passed around and well read). I almost put them straight in the bin. Over the years, and with maturity, I have noticed that directly after reading such magazines my dissatisfaction with some aspect of my life tends to grow, be it body, clothes, state of the house, career or cooking and parenting. Something always feels 'not quite good enough'. Through negative association, and a kind of self-aware damage limitation, I now simply stay away.
Yet, a stack of these mags made it into my house, and instead of the bin they ended up in the loo. Good toilet reading, I thought.
Aware of their strong negative power, I have dipped in and out lightly, not taking much too seriously. But one new thing I noticed was the grand, grand in-authenticity of a life they portray. Yes, I know it sounds obvious, but for a while I have been mulling over the crazy situation in which we find a 'projected' (i.e. media-led) image of life and the huge, I mean HUGE, difference with real life.
In an interview with a celebrity, the said celebrity mentions her children, "...such a joy, when they are happy I'm happy, I love parenthood..." etc. Now, I guarantee that 99% of mums I know with 2 or 3 children would say something like "I love them but they are bloody annoying. On a good day I delight in their new experiences, their chat and their smiles, on a bad day I just want to walk out for a pint of milk and never come back. I miss my head space, I miss clean clothes and an orderly house, I miss being able to go to the cinema or for dinner without it costing just as much again in a babysitter, I miss eating at what time I want and just flopping down at the end of the day instead of having to pick up clothes, put out washing, prep stuff for the next day and always think ahead. I love them dearly, my heart cannot contain this strong love I feel for them , it overwhelms me and yet sometimes I feel it is sinking me."
In these mags we are portrayed this image of life as orderly, clean, neat, explainable, when it is the opposite of all that. Life is messy, confusing, grubby and ever changing. You grasp hold of a feeling, an idea, an answer... it slips away, to be replaced by something else.
And always change, change, change. Nothing stay the same... not your children, your relationship, your home, job, the people around you. It is a constant swirl or dance of things coming and going and how could that really be orderly?
Sometimes, with hindsight, our brain manage to put a kind of meaning (and order) to events. We are trained to see patterns, so we see them, our life has narrative in retrospect. But really, in the moment it is all a swirl, a whirl, we fall form one thing to the next. Who doesn't?
And I find that it's when we resist this, or the times we 'get it all under control' (as if WE were in control of the vast unknown) that we fall hardest.
Navigating life is navigating change, flowing with what comes at you, not stubbornly steering within 'acceptable limits' of appearance, cleanliness, career.
Real Living is living with this change and uncertainty and the myriad of loose ends we exist with. Wouldn't it be refreshing to read about that for a change?
Thursday 24 May 2012
Friday 10 February 2012
Different mothers, different methods
Have you ever been in a situation where you and a close friend ‘do’ some aspect of parenting differently?
How did you deal with it? Did you keep your mouth shut and silently chastise yourself for not being able to calmly, maturely put your side of the argument over without it becoming just that?
Or did you calmly and maturely put your side across without it becoming an argument but afterwards a) agonize about whether you offended your friend (was I too opinionated? Did I make her feel bad?!) or b) Feel like you yourself have been doing the wrong thing and are therefore a bad mother.
Have you ever talked in depth about a parenting issue with one friend, knowing that another mutual friend does the opposite to the two of you, and then felt terrible, just terrible, when seeing your beloved first friend?
My answers (and I’m guessing, yours) are yes, yes, yes and yes!
Parenting is such a personal thing it verges on ideology. Sometimes we are making different choices to our own parents, or to society at large and this means that our choices are backed up by reading, solid research and a fist-full ‘o’ facts’. Our choice becomes our position, our ‘thing’, part of our identity.
The facts are our ammunition, our defence against all those people (or companies) who would convert us to bottle feed/to breastfeed, to vaccinate/to not vaccinate, to make fresh baby food/to buy jars, to use washable nappies/to save time and an already overloaded laundry basket and harm the planet and use disposables (delete as appropriate).
We justify our choice many times by putting the other choice as ‘wrong’. But what if the other choice is being made by someone you love and respect? What if while lining up all those other ‘haters’ your best friend slips in? Hands up you cruel ferberising maniacs! Oh, sorry mate, not you, obviously…
I once heard someone say “each family is its own culture” and I couldn’t agree more. There may be overlap with others, and if we are lucky even overlap with friends and family, but one thing is for sure- there will be differences.
So what ever happened to respecting difference? Or not just respecting, but enjoying, even revelling in difference?
This means listening non-judgmentally (hard), discussing while not preaching (harder) and actually beginning to enjoy that we do things differently, enjoy that there is conversation, information, being flexible and open to change if it seems right, while not feeling either self righteous or guilty if we carry on just as we are.
I think an important part of being parents is working on accepting that probably every method of childrearing is at once both right and wrong, and that not one of us will do things perfectly, no matter how many facts we own. In the long run, our mistakes as well as our triumphs become part of who we are as people, as parents.
Let’s admit that, at times, we are all scared witless by this insane task and have no idea what we are doing. And, as the old saying goes- wouldn’t it be boring if we were all the same?
How did you deal with it? Did you keep your mouth shut and silently chastise yourself for not being able to calmly, maturely put your side of the argument over without it becoming just that?
Or did you calmly and maturely put your side across without it becoming an argument but afterwards a) agonize about whether you offended your friend (was I too opinionated? Did I make her feel bad?!) or b) Feel like you yourself have been doing the wrong thing and are therefore a bad mother.
Have you ever talked in depth about a parenting issue with one friend, knowing that another mutual friend does the opposite to the two of you, and then felt terrible, just terrible, when seeing your beloved first friend?
My answers (and I’m guessing, yours) are yes, yes, yes and yes!
Parenting is such a personal thing it verges on ideology. Sometimes we are making different choices to our own parents, or to society at large and this means that our choices are backed up by reading, solid research and a fist-full ‘o’ facts’. Our choice becomes our position, our ‘thing’, part of our identity.
The facts are our ammunition, our defence against all those people (or companies) who would convert us to bottle feed/to breastfeed, to vaccinate/to not vaccinate, to make fresh baby food/to buy jars, to use washable nappies/to save time and an already overloaded laundry basket and harm the planet and use disposables (delete as appropriate).
We justify our choice many times by putting the other choice as ‘wrong’. But what if the other choice is being made by someone you love and respect? What if while lining up all those other ‘haters’ your best friend slips in? Hands up you cruel ferberising maniacs! Oh, sorry mate, not you, obviously…
I once heard someone say “each family is its own culture” and I couldn’t agree more. There may be overlap with others, and if we are lucky even overlap with friends and family, but one thing is for sure- there will be differences.
So what ever happened to respecting difference? Or not just respecting, but enjoying, even revelling in difference?
This means listening non-judgmentally (hard), discussing while not preaching (harder) and actually beginning to enjoy that we do things differently, enjoy that there is conversation, information, being flexible and open to change if it seems right, while not feeling either self righteous or guilty if we carry on just as we are.
I think an important part of being parents is working on accepting that probably every method of childrearing is at once both right and wrong, and that not one of us will do things perfectly, no matter how many facts we own. In the long run, our mistakes as well as our triumphs become part of who we are as people, as parents.
Let’s admit that, at times, we are all scared witless by this insane task and have no idea what we are doing. And, as the old saying goes- wouldn’t it be boring if we were all the same?
Monday 30 January 2012
Accepting ourselves, accepting our kids
Many times as parents we are reminded just what a huuuuge responsibility being a parent is, and how muuuuch we influence our children's lives (duh). For many of us, this causes us to reflect a lot on how we want to be as parents, and how we want to be as people. We choose "a way", a parenting "style", we read books, attend classes, have debates with like (and not so like ) minded parents, write articles and blogs about it (!).
Many times we make parenting a way of life.
Then comes the day when your child doesn't do what you want them to do. The fuss, scream, have tantrums, give up piano lessons, swear at you, break your stuff, refuse your organic food, and eventually become chavs or bankers... where did I go wrong, we ask? You were supposed to become a vegetarian, flute-playing, pacifist carpenter? And you, you were supposed to be a ground-breaking, documentary activist, changing the world! I cooked you organic food, paid through the nose for an alternative education, I breast fed you until you were 3, co-slept with you for 9 years, damnit!
The "investment" of rearing children is huge. Aside from the financial aspect we jeopardise our relationships, careers, and irreversibly change (I prefer that word to "ruin") our bodies. What would that all be for if we didn't get something back?
We invest all we can and we expect rewards: well balanced, HAPPY, healthy, emotionally aware, ethical, environmental, peaceful, creative children... WOAH. What a burden.
But the eventual truth of parenting is that you may never get something back, and that you just have to swallow. They may never say thank-you.
It could be more useful to focus what we can give to each child at a particular time, not martyre ourselves against our kids and then take it out on them emotionally when they don't live up to whatever standards we have outlined. So if you can manage organic food and giving them 5-a-day this week, great. If it's beans on toast and a vitamin, that's fine too. If you can afford an expensive school right now and you like it, do it. If you can't, don't re-mortgage your house to do so, in the long run (measured by parental stress) it's simply not worth it.
It takes children to humble what many of us see as success or failure. With my first child I did everything "right": I did pregnancy yoga, ate right, had a homebirth, co-slept, breastfed... and had a fat, happy little baby that I carried around in a sling all day, thinking - clever me!
With number 2 I also birthed at home, carried in a sling, breastfed on demand, co-slept and she cried to high hell for the first 3 months. It brought me down a peg or two, and helped me to see that what we do (be it co-sleeping or paying for an expensive education) has to come from a desire to do it because you can, and should be independent of the end result (a quiet baby, an outstanding career).
It's called accepting ourselves as parents, out limitations, letting go of those ideas of perfection, and accepting our kids too, be they carpenters, chavs, documentary makers or bankers.
Many times we make parenting a way of life.
Then comes the day when your child doesn't do what you want them to do. The fuss, scream, have tantrums, give up piano lessons, swear at you, break your stuff, refuse your organic food, and eventually become chavs or bankers... where did I go wrong, we ask? You were supposed to become a vegetarian, flute-playing, pacifist carpenter? And you, you were supposed to be a ground-breaking, documentary activist, changing the world! I cooked you organic food, paid through the nose for an alternative education, I breast fed you until you were 3, co-slept with you for 9 years, damnit!
The "investment" of rearing children is huge. Aside from the financial aspect we jeopardise our relationships, careers, and irreversibly change (I prefer that word to "ruin") our bodies. What would that all be for if we didn't get something back?
We invest all we can and we expect rewards: well balanced, HAPPY, healthy, emotionally aware, ethical, environmental, peaceful, creative children... WOAH. What a burden.
But the eventual truth of parenting is that you may never get something back, and that you just have to swallow. They may never say thank-you.
It could be more useful to focus what we can give to each child at a particular time, not martyre ourselves against our kids and then take it out on them emotionally when they don't live up to whatever standards we have outlined. So if you can manage organic food and giving them 5-a-day this week, great. If it's beans on toast and a vitamin, that's fine too. If you can afford an expensive school right now and you like it, do it. If you can't, don't re-mortgage your house to do so, in the long run (measured by parental stress) it's simply not worth it.
It takes children to humble what many of us see as success or failure. With my first child I did everything "right": I did pregnancy yoga, ate right, had a homebirth, co-slept, breastfed... and had a fat, happy little baby that I carried around in a sling all day, thinking - clever me!
With number 2 I also birthed at home, carried in a sling, breastfed on demand, co-slept and she cried to high hell for the first 3 months. It brought me down a peg or two, and helped me to see that what we do (be it co-sleeping or paying for an expensive education) has to come from a desire to do it because you can, and should be independent of the end result (a quiet baby, an outstanding career).
It's called accepting ourselves as parents, out limitations, letting go of those ideas of perfection, and accepting our kids too, be they carpenters, chavs, documentary makers or bankers.
Sunday 22 January 2012
Kairos and Chronos
I learned something new this week, and relevant to my Greek heritage so it has added interest. The ancient Greeks had two different words (and concepts) of time: chronos and kairos.
Chronos is the sequential, clock time that we all know; the clock ticks, the months pass, we grow, age, die.
Kairos (beautiful name, have to save it for number 3!) means a moment between time, a sacred inspiration, a moment out of a moment, spiritual enlightenment, a pure other-worldly fragment, being firmly in the now.
Chronos: kairos.
Quantity: quality.
Past and future: the present.
Body: spirit.
Doing: being.
While chronos is a necessity, a fact and a reality, kairos must not be forgotten. Kairos is the moment you stop and look, see the colour of light or taste the year's first strawberry, slip into a crisp sea, notice a raspberry-hued cloud bank on the horizon, hear your child chuckle, feel that "all is well". Kairos makes chronos a joy, life worth living.
I'm happy to have the words to express something I already knew.
Chronos is the sequential, clock time that we all know; the clock ticks, the months pass, we grow, age, die.
Kairos (beautiful name, have to save it for number 3!) means a moment between time, a sacred inspiration, a moment out of a moment, spiritual enlightenment, a pure other-worldly fragment, being firmly in the now.
Chronos: kairos.
Quantity: quality.
Past and future: the present.
Body: spirit.
Doing: being.
While chronos is a necessity, a fact and a reality, kairos must not be forgotten. Kairos is the moment you stop and look, see the colour of light or taste the year's first strawberry, slip into a crisp sea, notice a raspberry-hued cloud bank on the horizon, hear your child chuckle, feel that "all is well". Kairos makes chronos a joy, life worth living.
I'm happy to have the words to express something I already knew.
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