Saturday

6.30am Woken by Sam, breakfast of bowl of shreddies and juice (him) toast and marmalade and black coffee (me),Mary Poppins dvd and a read of yesterday's Guardian, empty and load washing machine and hang out washing, tidy computer desk and clean dining room table and hoover dining room.
8.45 Organise birthday present for friend, phonecall, bath me and Sam, get dressed, pack bag, find library books and dvds, dash to football.
9.30 Football - Sam has suddenly found his stride and turned into a fast runner and a good kicker
10.15 A trip to the 'Numbers' caff for chocolate milkshake (him) black coffee (me) and a copy of the Peppa Pig magazine (him) and Guardian for me.
10.45 Shopping, fill car up with petrol (wince at price) return home, make picnic lunch and put shopping away.
11.30 Collect niece, drive to local shopping centre, visit library to return Sam's books and dvds and he selects new ones. Eat lunch in the park and have races and play hide and seek.
1.30 Take niece clothes shopping for her birthday present and take Sam to the toy shop for bubbles, balloons and replacement whoopee cushion.
3.00 Return to car, Drop niece home, Sam falls asleep, get home and leave him asleep while I sit on the front step with coffee and shortbread biscuits and read the Guardian Weekend magazine.
4.30 Sam wakes up, put on 'Bolt' dvd from the library for him to watch, race Lightning Macqueen cars and then go outside and play catch, try out my new hula hoop, water the garden including veg patch, then pour water on our bare feet and make foot prints on the patio.
7.00 Get washing in, cook tea, listen to Craig Charles on 6Music, dance with Sam to Gil Scott Heron, get him ready for bed, read stories.
9.00 Feel tired and grumpy, feel blessed.

All We Ever Wanted (Was Everything)

It has been a challenging week for all kinds of reasons. So I was glad to see the beautiful golden-washed moon this evening. All these things shall pass...

I am very greedy and want everything- mostly I want what is not possible and once again travel the circle of wishing in vain, feeling disappointed, frustrated, sad, blaming myself, realising it isn't my fault, accepting what is, letting go...

What I want most is for Sam to be happy and for us to have a home, a family life and a support network. We have some of of this...we do not have some of this...

I am playing the long game.

Love and a Bauhaus tune
xxx

Cybele - the orginal Mother

What you might not know about 'Mothers' / Mother's Day' is that, like other seasonal family celebrations it has its roots in Christianity - actually it doesn't - it's roots are far older than that.

Orginally it was the Roman festival of Hilaria, a celebration of the Goddess Cybele, which may explain April Fools Day...? I kid you not....

The Christian Church appropriated this Pagan festival, as they did with so many others... Easter (Eostre), Christmas, Candlemas etc etc...

Christians, up until the early part of the twentieth century would gather at their 'Mother' church on 'Mothering Sunday' to acknowledge the Virgin Mary and celebrate the Church in general, on the fourth sunday of Lent.

So, if like me, as a single mother, with no mother to make a fuss of, and noone to make a fuss of you, you feel a bit narked by yet another occasion where you feel you don't fit into the stereotype... of the family who brings gifts of flowers and treats and takes Mummy out for a nice lunch... and you don't have a husband or partner to cook you that breakfast in bed or buy you some jewellery...

Don't worry! It's another mirage offered up by advertising that, for the most part, doesn't exist, and it's a bad idea to try and live up to it. That's when I start to feel sorry for myself, and I hate that...

When Sam can make me a card, that will be great. He gave me a daisy the other day- and told me he loved me- what more could I ask for from my son?

There are plenty of us who are doing our best on our own to provide for our kids and be good mums. There are mothers today who are working, or looking after sick and disabled kids, who are struggling with debts, who are homeless, who may have noone to acknowledge they are doing a fine job.

To all of them I salute you - HAPPY MOTHERS DAY

My garden is full of wild violets, apparently sacred to Cybele...Goddess Mother of Mothers...

Love, Love, Love
xxx

Six Years Ago Today

What an April Fool I felt as my Dad drove me and the few possessions that hadn't been put in storage back to London. Heartbroken and leaving my home, work, friends and life as well as my failed marriage and my dreams in Bristol, a city I had taken to my heart and did not expect to leave.

Six years later I am about to finish my degree in creative writing and journalism, just about to get my first poem in print, and accepted to do an MA next year. I got to spend precious time with my Mum before she died. I made a radio series on shoes for Resonance FM. I got to hang out with my best friend again.



Most importantly I had Sam and became a mother. I got to be me on my own terms, and I am back living near, if not quite in my beloved Smoke.

I have made some great new friends, stayed in contact with some old ones and gradually forgiven myself for what happened, let go and moved on.

Sam and I spent this afternoon hanging out together in London and having fun...long may it continue...



Love, Love, Love xxx

Happy Birthday Mum

My Mum would have been 63 today. My sister and I went and did some nice things that she liked to do, to remember her in a way she would hopefully appreciate. Spending too much on make up at the Christian Dior counter in Harvey Nichols was one such thing, and today was the first time we had been back there since she died in 2006. And oddly, the Christian Dior counter had vanished! So no memorial lippy-trying-on...
Thirty years ago today I gave Mum "Woman" by John Lennon on 7" vinyl for her birthday...
"I'm forever in your debt...I love you"
Love, love, love xxx

Feeding Sam - a story about breastfeeding.

This is a slightly edited version of a piece originally written in 2009, when Sam was two, and published in my local NCT branch newsletter. I am posting it here now after a conversation on Twitter about extended breastfeeding, in the hope that it may be of help to anyone who might be in a similar position. And also to highlight the reality of extended breastfeeding.


I breastfed Sam about half an hour after he was born, finally, 15 days late, by emergency caesarean section, weighing in at 8lbs and 2oz. He latched on straight away and had a good feed for about half an hour. Great!
I’d always planned to exclusively breastfeed Sam for the first six months, and then continue to breast feed him whilst introducing solids until he was at least a year old. I read up on breastfeeding and attended a birth preparation course with Sam’s dad, which included an evening devoted to the art of breastfeeding.

The next two days, however, were not so great. He was constantly hungry and I was constantly trying to feed him while I was in the post-natal ward at the hospital. I asked to see a breastfeeding counsellor, explaining to the midwives that I wanted to exclusively breastfeed because I have a history of severe eczema, asthma, hayfever and oral allergy syndrome and wanted to do anything possible to give Sam the best chance of avoiding of all the above. I did not see a breastfeeding counsellor, apparently no one was available for the whole two days and I kept being advised to give my baby formula.

Only one member of staff at the hospital told me very sympathetically to “keep at it... your milk will take a bit longer to come in because of the caesarean and the blood loss but it will. You’ll have a few difficult days but it will come good.” This advice, which seemed like a great kindness at the time, kept me going.
By the time I left I asked them for some bottles of ready-mixed formula to take with me. Sam was screaming hungry and I had had no sleep for two days and very little rest at all.
I gave Sam 40ml late that night and he immediately looked happier and went to sleep. I devised my own strategy with the help of a book. I decided I would keep a record of all the feeds and made a chart. It was exhausting and for a few days excruciatingly painful…sore and bleeding nipples! This made me a bit braver about trying different positions and taking him off the breast and trying to get him to latch on properly.

Sam was colicky and screamed and cried a lot for the first three weeks. On the advice of my sister I introduced a dropper of Infacol before each feed and this seemed to help. At the same time I stopped the tiny bit of top-up of formula he was having each night and took him to see a cranio-sacral practitioner, who made some subtle but vital adjustments - he had got very squashed up in my womb. Sam slept peacefully as soon as he came home from the first appointment, the colic symptoms eased and I noticed a huge difference in him. He was much happier and able to move his head and arms more freely.

After six weeks I had a postnatal check up and the midwife told me I had now successfully established breastfeeding.
I didn’t tell her I could pluck my eyebrows whilst feeding Sam. Now that is multitasking. By this point I was starting to recover from the caesarean and was off walking everywhere, visiting friends and family and trying to get to meet some new mums and a friend I had made at antenatal classes.

I fed Sam wherever I went: outside cafes; by the river; in the park; at friends’ and family’s homes; even outside Tate Modern! I don’t remember ever having to deal with complaints or too much staring but I did wear a big smock for the first few months and was fairly discreet.

At four months Sam was introduced to baby rice, after demanding to be breastfed
every two hours and eyeing up everyone else’s food. It was the right time. I introduced a new pureed fruit or vegetable every few days and then started to combine them and broaden his diet. He has a good appetite and eats well and, even now, as a two year old will eat most of what is offered to him, although he does ask for ice cream and chocolate for breakfast, he settles for fruit and toast.

I gradually dropped one breastfeed at a time until last July, 2008; I dropped his morning feed which meant we were down to one breastfeed a day, at bedtime.
We were both happy with this but other people found the fact that I was still feeding Sam myself rather strange and even distasteful. So I stopped talking about it. I even had friends who were concerned that I might be “psychologically damaging” Sam by continuing to breastfeed him past a year. They thought it was “strange” that I would have a conversation with him about stopping breastfeeding.

Amongst some friends and family I have found the subject of extended breastfeeding to be the biggest taboo I have ever negotiated. This has been somewhat of a shock to me as I found breastfeeding Sam to be one of the best and most brilliant experiences I have ever had- and what could be more natural? I am well aware after my own initial struggle that breastfeeding is very hard to establish for many people and is not automatic- it is a skill, an art. I feel very lucky to have been able to do it for as long as I did. It is great to have choices and everyone must do what they feel is right for them and works well in their own circumstance.

I do not have an opinion on this except that if you want to do it then give it a go! Get as much information and support as you can.
Eat loads, drink loads of water and talk to people who’ve done it. Phone the NCT breastfeeding counselling line- I did and the woman I spoke to was fantastic. If you don’t like it, can’t get the hang of it, can’t do it for some reason or you decide it just isn’t right for you - then stop. Formula is not evil. That tiny top up worked wonders for me and Sam when I was recovering from the caesarean and establishing my milk supply. He wouldn’t look at a bottle later on even though I was expressing milk and freezing it in the hope that someone else could feed him for once!

Sam was two on the 13th May this year, and I decided we were ready to stop. I went to a local La Leche League meeting to get some advice and support on the best way to do it. They were lovely. I recommend getting in touch with them if you are breastfeeding and need support. I only wish I had known there was a local group before I was about to stop. I got home from the meeting and that evening began to feed Sam as usual, thinking we would stop in the following weeks after I had handed in all my university assignments.

Sam had other ideas. After two minutes of feeding he stopped and said “Finished Mummy. Want dummy.” I couldn’t quite take it in but gradually worked out that he
didn’t want me to feed him anymore and wanted a dummy like another boy at nursery. He’s never had a dummy and it seemed a bit silly to start with one then so I said “No. You’re a big boy now. You don’t need a dummy.” He had always been breastfed to sleep (yes, I know everyone says this is a bad idea but it worked for me…) so it took him a little while to settle. But the next night he went to sleep without a feed, no problems. He’s never asked for “Na na” and that’s it. All done- and, so far, no allergies, asthma and just a tiny smidge of eczema when tired and teething. Now I just have to stop him from frisbeeing his dinner off the table and on to the floor – but that’s another story.

Parenting the F*** It way

I feel better this morning. Lighter, happier, more optimistic. And I really think it is because I dared to write honestly, if briefly, about the struggles I have with my internal, critical and perfectionist, dialogue.

What I am learning to say is "F*** IT" and I am reading a marvellous book, F*** it: The ultimate spiritual way, by John C Parkin, which is helping.
Part Barefoot Doctor, part common sense, part punk rock, it contains possibly the best parenting 'advice' I have read in a long time. Also, it is the closest to my own views on parenting, which is very reassuring.

What Parkin outlines in the section on parenting is the fear parents have of their children, which reflexively you may argue against, but it is worth being open-minded about what he has to say, and it made a lot of sense to me:

"And the whole of society will support a disciplinarian approach to parenting. This is because everyone has this fear in them of what children might do."

"So it's time (for you at least) to say F*** It to this fear. And this is why:
The less you try to control your kids, the more they will take care of themselves.
The less you discipline them, the better (generally)they'll behave....
When you get out of the way of children they pass through things very quickly:
A child left alone will soon stop shouting and be quiet again.
A child left alone will soon stop stropping and be happy again.
A child left alone will soon stop racing around the restaurant and come and eat again...
And when I say 'alone' here, I do-of course-mean left without you trying to control them rather than literally 'alone'....

If you take this course of less effort and intervention you will invariably get some shit from other people. You'll get some looks in restaurants and in shops. And it's up to you where you decide that 'it's just their shit' and where they have a point (i.e. it must be darn disurbing here in the Savoy to have children leaping from table to table dressed as Spider-man.)

And if you're thinking, 'Yeah, sure, sounds great in theory, but I'm sure it's a nightmare in practice,' listen to this: in the end, as parents, we don't 'know', we only sense. And our sense as parents all along has been to let our children be."

This is not a full quote, just a flavour of what Parkin is saying, so if you are interested in this I would recommend reading the whole section, which is only a few pages long. My faltering self confidence means that I do struggle with allowing Sam his freedom in restaurants etc because I worry too much about other people thinking I am a bad parent. This is something I have written about here in the past but I know really that I am a good parent.

So I say F*** IT to the dirty looks from now on. Sam is not malicious, going out to cause harm with intent. Just exuberant and needing some management! It's a horrible office-speak-ism but I suppose this all boils down to something that could be called 'Light-touch' parenting.



I have many other parenting books but a couple which have been particularly uselful at times and which I may write about in another post:

Buddhism for Mothers: A calm approach to caring for yourself and your children, by Sarah Napthali

Everyday Blessings: The Inner Work of Mindful Parenting, by Myla and John Kabat-Zinn

I read twenty parenting books when I was pregnant, probably because I am a bibliophile and I am sure because I had just lost my mum and don't have any close, older female family wisdom to draw on. To be realistic though, if Mum was still around I am sure we would clash daily over how I am bringing Sam up- even though- contrary to what some people might think, I am far from radical. My main aim is to be supportive and loving.

There are two things I have done so far as a parent which others seem to have found controversial: I never left him to cry as a baby; I breastfed him til he was two.
I actually had friends ask me if I thought breastfeeding him that long would psychologically damage him! Check out what the World Health Organisation has to say on the length of time they recommend to breastfeed a child. I have no axe to grind or judgement to make about either of these very personal decisions- it worked for me and Sam and he stopped of his own accord a few days after his second birthday, just as I had decided I felt it was time to change our bedtime routine, which was the only time I still fed him.

These two issues are two of the biggest taboos I have ever encountered. Forget sex and drugs- if you want to be subversive these days just try and have an open conversation about extended breast feeding!

In fact wherever I have left Sam to make a decision he has done it himself at the right time for him and I have had no problems. The only time I took advice from someone who allegedly knew better was when Sam's nursery insisted he be potty trained in time for his move to pre-school. This has been a nightmare, simply because he was not ready. We are moving through it very slowly and I have now taken any pressue off him and am leaving things up to him wherever I can.

I hope that I am always respectful of other people's parenting choices. I try very hard not to push my views on other parents. We all do things differently and each child is unique and we know as mothers, as parents, what is right for them, and for us as a family.

Love, Love, Love
...and F*** IT!

The Meadow

The meadow is quiet
Not even the hum of a bee
The meadow is still
No breath of breeze
The meadow is a place for you and me
A place in dreams for us to be
I describe it for you as you go to sleep
It is green and warm, the grass is long
We can make daisy chains
Lie still, watch clouds change shape
And wonder where the birds are flying to
You ask me how we get there:
“Close your eyes and imagine....”
I hold your hand and stroke your hair
I close my eyes and imagine....
You laugh and say:
“Mummy, you’re funny.”

Stopping and resting

Stopping university and getting some rest has paid dividends. I have had a couple of days where I have been able to function fairly normally. I saw someone on Twitter describe having M.E as "having flu, a hangover and being burned from the inside all at the same time." I have been spared the burning but recognise the flu plus hangover description. It is horrible.

I find myself in the position of dreading something as simple as going to get some shopping. I mete out the precious energy it will take: get in the car and drive to x; park the car and walk to x; get shopping; pay for shopping; take bags back to car; get in car and drive home etc...it feels ridiculous. I have taken for granted (as we all do) my vitality and ability to get so much done in a day - too much. This all has to change.

I have no idea how I have been doing all that I have been doing. Studying as a full time undergraduate and being a full-time single parent is enough to make your head spin!

At the moment I am looking at ways to facilitate my recovery and make sure that I stay as well as possible so that I can be a fully-engaged mum to Sam and finish my degree. At the moment I am on for a first but whether this will remain possible I don't know and if not I will have to let it go. I can only do my best.

My best friend and her boyfriend have been absolutely fantastic. They've taken Sam swimming the last two saturdays and took him to help buy their Christmas tree last saturday as well. This has made a big difference to me, not having to do a whole weekend on my own and giving me a break.

It meant that on sunday I could drive us to the park, have a good walk and play a bit of football with Sam, and then meet some old friends in a nearby pub for lunch. I was exhausted by the end of the day but not so obliterated that I lost all sense of reason which is what has been happening.

There are so many things to fight for but the fight I must win is learning to stop and rest and get better. And then choose which battles...

Love, Love, Love xxx

My 100th Post as LucyFurLeaps

I am thinking I should make this count but really I wanted to have a quick ramble. I am starting to get back to some writing again. Following a few weeks of manic listmaking and doing, a wonderful week's holiday in Devon with Sam and my best friend, and needing a break after the intense meltdown-producing end of last semester at university.

I have still got plenty to keep me busy- obviously full-time single motherhood is top of the list. Also the garden, see my Roar!Earth Blog for more on that, and the general re-organising and de-cluttering of the house.

I am trying to find time to get my bike serviced and go swimming but haven't quite managed it yet...

Poetry is still my main concern.

Politics is creeping in too, after the inevitable let-down of the ConDem coalition. I am choosing what I read and when I read it carefully because it is so depressing and worrying. But I am keeping informed and wondering where to start 'acting'.

I am going to join a political party. I am fairly sure which one it will be but it is conditional. More writing on this when I have done the deed.