Time flies - when you're a Mum
Thursday 26th of September 2013 | Category: Opinion | Written by: Leoarna MathiasI’m in contemplative mood this week. The reason? Our little girl started school this month. Now, you’d be forgiven for thinking that, in this case, I have no place writing for website that focuses on babies. But, bear with me, I do have a relevant point to make.
Born in October 2008, our daughter was much longed for. Our journey to parenthood was a long one, and not without its sadnesses; miscarriages, two, and a number of failed infertility treatments. Her arrival was joyous, and our determination to appreciate our eventual good fortune was very real. From that point on, there was no doubt that our life felt as if someone had their finger permanently pressed on the fast forward button.
And yet with hindsight, and the perspective gained through the extra chaos in our lives brought about by the arrival of her younger brother three years later, those early days seem now remarkably calm. Yes, we went out to swimming class, and mother and baby groups, and yoga. But we also walked the dog each afternoon, and as she slept in the pram on our return, I would sit with a cuppa and have 15 minutes peace to myself. This seems an utter luxury now!
There is a rich irony in the idea that these moments, that we are told over and over again to savour, are the hardest to slow down. We know, in the back of our minds, that we are living through weeks, months and years that are, most likely, the ones where we are most alive, most purposeful, most dynamic; but we are utterly absorbed in the ‘doing’ of them (and too distracted by getting the kid’s tea going, or the laundry on, to pay full attention).
Now this household in to the swing of the new term, we are already going to parent’s assembly on Friday afternoons, attending PTFA events, ordering school meals from the rotating menu and completing the reading diary to be found in her book bag. It is, of course, a heart-in-mouth moment to see her head off each morning into class, but I also feel a pride in her as she bravely steps forth. As I bump into friends and acquaintances on the street, they ask how she is, and we marvel at the speed with which she has travelled from bump, to babe to school girl. Three weeks in and she already seems a little different, talking of things that just a month ago, were utterly alien to her: ‘No Mummy, I don’t have to do that, I’m only in Foundation Stage’; ‘Yes Mummy, of course I know how to put my hand up, I did it this afternoon in assembly’; and even, just this morning, ‘Mummy, I really like doing phonics’(!)
Significant Changes
A child starting school is a significant step-change in the ebb and flow of any family’s life. Spending so many more hours apart from your child, and no longer being party to the minutiae of their moment-to-moment existence, can feel strangely disconcerting. This is particularly true in this country where our children start school earlier than pretty much anywhere else in the developed world. A full school day is a tough ask of your average four year old, and by the time you pick them up they don’t have much left in the tanks. Even holding a conversation with you about their day is, sometimes, just too much. There is, at present, a sizeable campaign aiming to change the age at which our children start formal schooling; academics, education professionals and policy makers are arguing hard that our children endure Too Much Too Soon. For my own part I have gone down the path of flexi-schooling for the time being at least, despite the fact that there is substantial resistance to this in current Department for Education guidance. I share this information with you in the hope that, when your time comes, you feel empowered to make choices that sit well with you and your children.
Returning to where this post started, my message to you is simply this. As I type, you are, no doubt, keeping one eye on your baby or toddler as they tear the page from yet another book, or pick up an aging bit of toast from the kitchen floor and shove it in their mouth. There are days that seem interminable, as if the clock has slowed itself to glacier-melting speed. Our children have no sense of how irritating it is to pick their spoon up from the floor for the fifteenth time, or how boring it can be to listen to ‘twinkle twinkle little star’ blaring from their toy radio over and over again. In these moments, it is hard to be thankful, hard to not wish yourselves forward a couple of years. But - and I won’t be the only person who ever says this to you I know – however hard it is to do it, try to savour these times; they are so quickly, quickly gone.
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