When I was a little girl, I was a dreamer. I would spent hours looking outside , creating stories, building up spaces that talk to me, of a world that would enhance beauty, joy, peace, love. Teachers did not like it. I was too slow. I was too shy. I was too much of this and not enough of that.
When I was a little girl, I would talk out loud. Not to myself. To angels and people around that nobody could see but me. People didn’t like it. They thought others would say I’m crazy or something like this. They wanted me to stop acting weird.
When I was a little girl, I had dreams. I wanted to care for others. I wanted to help, guide, and heal. They looked at me like it wasn’t what would give me what I needed to feed a family. They told me to go for something else; I listened to them and I am now stuck in a job that pays the rent and makes everybody else happy but me.
I don’t know it all.
But I don’t want you to think that you are limited, that some places, some dreams are not for you. I don’t want you to say that you are not good enough, that you are an idiot. You are not. You are great and precious.
I don’t want you to believe that others know the truth. They don’t. There is not one truth. We all have ours. There is not one way. But plenty.
I don’t know it all.
But I’ll do my best to be always here for you, to trust you, to guide you and to be with you whatever road you choose to walk.
I like days spent at the park just outside home. Kids playing. I love watching them.
I remember the first time we came here, his first steps on this ground. He would not let go of my hand. He’d rather like me to go down the slide with him, make sandcastles and build games with leaves and chestnuts.
Now as soon as we step inside this space, he is running towards his friends. If nobody is there, he’s confident enough to play on his own or make new friends.
When I stop and take the time to look at him, I breath in the knowledge that we found her balance by walking at our own pace.
We spent time together. He spent time with his friends. He made new ones and let some others go.
We let time flow without wishing to hold it, like we tend to do the rest of the year, fearing to lose it doing nothing of interest, feeling trapped in hours that go too quickly before we know it.
Holidays are the time we needed. For us. For us a a family.
It’s tough sometime to be just of the two of us. Some days are hard for him I know. He told me so. He would like more people around. He would like to live with noise and mess, laughs, toys scattered all around the place, diners with many stories to be told.
But we ought to do with the cards we have in hands. I don’t wish to live with “if”. We are building relationships on strong basis and we are always happy to do things together. Most of the time, we’ll do our best. For the rest, we’ll go with the flow…
Accepting children the way they are. It sounds normal. It’s what love is all about: accepting others. We are all different and we recognize that our differences are a real chance.
But when it comes to our kids, we tend to have dreams for them; we tend to wish them to be more extrovert than we were, more independent, to be less frightened, less worried than us. We are trying our best to tell them all about confidence and how important it is to share, care, how nice it is to have friends or not to be afraid of others, strangers.
When they fit our expectations, it feels so good. We are the first ones to congratulate ourselves on how good we are at educating them. When they don’t, we start asking ourselves, “what’s wrong?” We start feeling that we are not good enough and put a lot of pressure on us and on them. We want them to fit in, to be like others. It’s so easy.
We do forget easily that kids are independent beings. Just like us…More to read on WMB
Last weekend I was away visiting some friends in the South of France. While we were talking about how hard it can be to raise kids, we realized that whatever we do, we’ll always have to face criticism, whether it is from family members, friends with kids or other parents around. People have an idea about everything. And when it comes to parenting or motherhood, they think that they must share what they think about this or that. Without even being asked to do so.
When it happens, we tend to feel like we are the worst mums ever. We’re not doing things the way we should do them. Others seem to know better. It’s very easy to get depressed, to cry and go straight to the first doctor we know to empty our hearts full of negativity and stress.
What if the others weren’t wrong, just different?
We all have our ideas on how we wish to raise our kids, what values we wish to pass on to them, on how well it feels for us to deliver a specific message. There are no rules, except the ones everybody knows, that say we have to take care of our kids and respect their needs, respect who they are and help them grow. The way we do it belongs to us. And most of the time we do the best we can with what we have… Keep Reading on WMB