Sunday, 11 January 2015

Thank you Mum, Thank you Dad, xxx

Where to start?

Total change of plan tonight. I was going to do the usual clear down of the apartment, followed by some time-wasting social media-surfing, followed by crocheting... All of course after bathing the baby, some story-telling and singing him to sleep. Total change of plan tonight...

My mum. My mum! My dad too of course... My dad! Wow.

I've been crying this evening. I can't tell you exactly why, because I don't know why, but what I can tell you is that they are tears of happiness, or perhaps, more to the point 'thankfulness'.

When I was expecting my baby boy, I didn't want to read any books. I wanted to go by my gut instinct and by the advice from my loved ones. But I've learned there are some things people simply can not prepare you for. I mean, I feel like I'm only just getting started on getting a hold of my own life; understanding it's true potential, learning new skills, evolving. That, I hope, will never stop. Yet, I'm one of the people that are supposed to be responsible for raising a whole new person?! To teach them how to live in the happiest way possible? I'm just getting started myself!

Now, I know none of us are perfect... In fact, I realise now I am drawn to those who also understand this point, so I am thankful that I am surrounded by friends who are in a process of trying to better themselves too and who help me along my way. They may not tell me what I want to hear, but they tell me the truth, from their perspective, for me to take along with me, if I wish. But it does seems astonishing that many of us are still so mentally young when we find ourselves getting prepared to care for and bring up a human being of our own.

It is in my nature, that if I am given a job, that I do the best I can at it. However, I definitely fail sometimes, I can get myself onto a slippery slope of idleness and things fall by the wayside. This happened with my college exam results. Appalling compared to what I should have been able to achieve, but if my heart is not in it, then it just won't happen with me.

'Exam results' is also something my mother cannot be proud of. But not out of her not trying her best. I know with all of my heart she tried her best, during her years when her fellow students would have been at college. But she wasn't sitting in a classroom. She was more likely helping out her own mother, to raise her five siblings, whom she was the oldest of. She would also have been found at a local factory, working to earn money to keep the family's head above water. To keep them safe, fed and warm.

Safe, fed and warm. Probably 3 of the most basic needs a parent must provide for their children, yet my mother was doing this at a very young age. She obviously took after my grandmother, who was such a loving lady. Seeing how she was with children made me wonder if I was cut out for the job. I didn't think I could be that nurturing.

I've just spent the day with my parents. My dad cooked a lovely Sunday roast meal while my mum had been cleaning and we all spent some quality time together. I was lucky enough to see grandparents and grandson (my son) make memories. There were at least two moments, where I felt my capabilities of keeping my own son happy, were deteriorating. Then, my mother would throw me a curveball. This is where, with her experience, she comes into her own... she has a simple solution. "Grandson... Would you like a Yorkshire pudding?".

It makes me cry when I think of the job I have ahead of me;
To make sure I raise a healthy person, to make sure that person is well-fed, and to make sure that person is safe, while in my care. It makes me cry because that person is so so special to me, it is unreal. What if I slip? What if I fail? My heart is in this, 100%, but to raise them mentally strong, well, that would be a bonus compared to the challenges that face me now. Then I stop crying. I think about the job my mother had. Wait a minute, my mother didn't need to have children. My father wasn't really bothered about having children but my mother pushed for it. They had four, in the end. After all the care my mother gave to her siblings, while she grew up, putting them before herself, but still choosing to have children of her own? Never choosing to pursue her own ambitions first, but putting me and my siblings first? Then I cry again.

I cry with thankfulness because I was safe, fed and warm. I cry when I think of my little boy's face, because I'm still so mentally young, yet trying to raise him with the greatest support. Getting him ready to have a life of his own. In a scary world, where one day, he'll maybe meet someone he chooses to raise a family of his own with.

Thank you mum, thank you dad, I well and truly, officially, thank you both, because, well, I'm still here. Still here and lucky enough to attempt to raise children of my own. Thank you for preparing me for this big world. If I can do for my little one what you have done for me, I will die a very happy person indeed. Thanks mum and dad xxx I love you