Earth mothers, mother earth

Joyously, after my post a couple of weeks ago, there’s more fuss in the media over advice given to pregnant women. Or not given, in my case. Was anyone warned against packaging when they were pregnant? Should I have given up eating things that were once wrapped in cellophane? Who knows.

It may well be a media inspired fuss, many things are. My favourite follow up story was by Channel 4 News which asked for examples of stupid pregnancy advice. Kirsty Allsopp replied on Twitter that you should keep your face out of the sun while pregnant. She was being serious. I have no idea what this means – anyone?

Anyway, I didn’t want to write a cross sarcastic type blog post today. My best friend has had a little girl this week and I’m really pleased and excited for her. So I thought I’d do a ‘this is what you’ve got to look forward to’ style blog – I just wanted to get that question in first as I’m curious.

In a fug of tiredness last night I sat and watched ‘Case Histories’ on iplayer. I’d read it before but forgotten most of it. There’s a scene near the end where a man (spoiler alert) tells his childless wife that he once fathered a child with a prostitute, killed the prostitute (by mistake, as you do) and farmed the child out for adoption. His heartbroken wife tells him: “I could have learned to love her. We could have had laughter, and colour, and wax crayons!” And then the poor woman goes upstairs and kills herself.

The dialogue resonated with me as I’d spent the hour between coming home from work and bathing E for bed playing with her and her wax crayons. It doesn’t sound much does it, laughter and colour and wax crayons, and yet it sums up neatly having a child in the house. E doesn’t draw with them yet, she likes to shake the box or pick each one out and move them about with careful deliberation. She does this with fridge magnets too. Drops them on the floor, bends or sits down and then picks them up and sticks them back on the fridge. For ages.

They tell you that playing with children can be boring. I’ve rarely found this. It’s quite liberating being allowed to play. And watching how E does things, how she develops in her play is fascinating too. She used to like knocking things down, now I see as she tries to build. One day she laughed and laughed as I rearranged her soft blocks. She’s never done it since – I have no idea why that was so funny. She still laughs at splashing in the bath. Her favourite toys include my door keys, wooden spoons or measuring spoons. This week she’s suddenly noticed the animal wall decals in her bedroom and has been getting me to tell her what each one is, with appropriate noises. (To be fair, doing this five times on the trot is quite boring…) It sounds daft to say it’s exciting but it is. She changes fast now.

So my friend has this to look forward to. As well as the smell. That’s the best bit. And the soft hair. And the warmth from a little body. And that strong grip on your finger. Take it all in, love.

I refuse to be one of those people who only mentions tiredness. It really doesn’t matter. And while I’m at it, here’s a blog by an acquaintance of mine who is determined to concentrate on the positive in parenting too (and crafting). Check it out:

This entry was posted in Motherhood, Observations and general nonsense, Parenting and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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