i had a dream last night that my eldest (now 19) was a toddler ... about two ... i was squatting beside him and telling him that when he was a big grown up boy he wasn't to forget how much i loved him ... he put his arms round me and squeezed me tight ...
the dream was incredibly vivid ... i could feel his solid little body ... and recalling it in the car on the way home from work at lunchtime - made me cry ...
this is because i regret i didn't make the most of the kids when they were little ... i frequently felt beleaguered and put upon and so damn tired i could hardly speak ... i did 99% of the child care ...
it's a massive massive sadness and regret and i can't go back and make it different ... if i had them now i would be very different i think because i know more ... but partly i know more because i DID have them ... it's a terrible double bind ...
i'm waiting to make it up via the grand children ...
i feel so very much for people who are putting their kids in day care ... perhaps they are going to wake up one day and feel terrible regret ...
Well considering today I ate an entire tiramasu, an entire raspberry trifle, four ferrero roches, a bag of chips, a roast sweet potato, a big pile of roast vegetables, and a slice of carrot cake, I think I have to agree with you fish about the deep down crying thing being covered up by vices.
I have to say that my confidence is at an all time low - STILL unemployed and money run out completely now - and most of the time I tell myself it is all my own fault. I feel bad about things I didn't do for my sister when I was her legal guardian, but I do know it is wrong to berate myself relentlessly.
Sigh...good days, bad days, brilliant days....I guess that's the way life is.
It's kind of cool, huh? (now where's the salt and vinegar crisps)
I've just scoffed a whole 2 litres of Sainsbury's neapolitan soft scoop, ice cream, blurrgghh - but I know it's not deep down sadness... it's, not very deep down, greed :o)
I have discovered that I just do not have any will-power beyond that of not buying the bleeding things in the first place. Once they are in my fridge I know that they will not survive the night in spite of my lying to myself that it's cheaper to buy in bulk. Luckily I do so much exercising nowadays that I can get away with the odd binge (famous last words)... Now where did I put those strawberry yoghurts?
fish, you need to forgive yourself! No one has ever said parenthood is an easy ride, especially if you're doing most of it yourself. I am quite sure you did the best you could, and that (even if only eventually) your kid/s will understand that. I feel exactly the same way: for the first six years of my son's life (which included the birth of Child #2) I suffered from extreme post-natal depression. Although I loved my son as best I could, as often as I could, I worry that my own emotional instability at the time has somehow 'scarred' him (although I see no evidence to support this: he is a warm, loving, and emotionally intelligent child).
But as to childcare, both mine were in full-time and I personally feel they were much -happier- in daycare than they would have been with a mother who never much enjoyed the role of domestic goddess and was always a lone wolf (I could never abide those dreadful 'mothers' groups' or 'coffee mornings', talking about nappy creams, etc...I'd rather have my fingernails pulled out with pliers). They got well-socialised, are very comfortable with people and had the added 'benefit' of catching every form of pestilence in existence, thus strengthening their immune systems so I don't have to worry about it so much now...
Daycare isn't all bad, if the parents pay attention to the kids when they're at home. It's when the parents expect the daycare to care for, raise, and love the child in lieu of the parents, that it becomes quite worrying...
Ha! Smiley, I subscribe to your philosophy. My particular vice is Tesco jam doughnuts, as I have mentioned before. I ate six (five of them in one sitting) this weekend as it was my son's birthday and we had 'em around.
If they're not in the house, I don't eat them. If they are in the house, they're not there for long. The PX doesn't understand this lack of willpower; says he: just don't eat them! Says I: just don't buy them!
*sigh* he just doesn't understand...
I've seen your photos, George, and it's you that looks effeminate - obvious you just make no effort at all - I'll stick to my 32" waist and no tits :o)
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