Being a parent...

A year ago Juddy and I were fresh out of Karitane, released from that friendly, suffocating prison back into the world. The world wherein other children existed, as did a job I was about to return to, and two grandmothers who had no interest in routines… I should have known it was NOT FOR ME. A year ago I was at my lowest point, so angry at my little baby who couldn’t, wouldn’t fall in to line with expectations… These days, I know him so well and accept that his default setting is “challenging”. I know that he lives for cuddling, and that he is nowhere nearer a full night’s sleep than he was back then, and I am, mostly, fine with that. Last night he had a little cough and I cradled him in the crook of my elbow, that heavy cannonball head, now covered in long, obstinately straight strands of the loveliest gold, smelling so tasty and familiar, his hair tickling my nose. I could just make out his profile in the darkness, and I can honestly say I’ve never loved him more. He’s such a ball of fun. He loves dogs – “gog” is his favourite and first properly used word – and shoes “oo”. A little Clifford board book, in which puppy Clifford plays peek-a-boo in a shoe, is a treasured possession, featuring, as it does, all of his most loved things. He’s still having one breastfeed before bed, but I think his interest is waning. Now, if only mine would! Juddy adores Otis, and mimics his every move. His eyes brighten at the sound of big brother’s voice. He and I are up with the birds every morning, and he’s often quite cranky until Otis and Peggy appear. Big brother is as amazing as always. Our inventor gets more creative by the minute, and his school report earmarked his above average creative abilities, which we are doing everything to foster. I am learning, slowly, that being a parent is about welcoming and valuing the little individuals that are gifted to you, and I am doing my damndest to rise to that challenge. Be they shy, boisterous, sporty, arty, dorky, rebellious, arrogant or reclusive, I will love them and love every bit of them, even the bits I don’t understand. Peggy’s little personality – or rather, big personality – continues to develop too. She’s an emotional person – each day with her features multiple highs and lows. She’s so loving lately, and so focused. She’ll work at something for an hour or two, literally cross-eyed with determination, and takes great pride in her creations – a completed jigsaw puzzle, a drawing of a heavily decorated cake, a page of numbers and letters, sprinkled with glitter. Fashion is something she takes a keen interest in, and I am trying to just go with it rather than stifle it. 15 hairclips, a striped top underneath a floral summer frock, complete with pink tights, Snow White socks, purple sandals and hair elastics around her ankles? Sure. My Little Pony, the TV series, is Booroo’s current favourite, and she borrows many of her phrases from it. “Don’t I look smashing?” is sometimes the first words I hear as a knotty-haired monkey runs into my arms of a morning. My little tribe makes me smile. They make me scream too, but I think – or, at least tell myself – that the smiles outnumber the screams.