resuming the task

I’m learning to be content with mess. I have absolutely no choice in the matter! The carpet is a field of clutter, and my plan is basically to keep it clean, and give up on keeping it clear.

 My husband and I keep talking about encouraging the children to tidy up after themselves, but the reality is that we’re not that good at doing it ourselves, and you can’t require things from your children that you aren’t doing yourself.

 But I am baking and cooking consistently again, which is always a good sign. I’m planning on getting a few photos of my culinary creations up here soon, because the computer seems to be be having itself, and I’m trying to be a bit more homemakery online, which is much more of a reflection of who I am offline than the polemic rants at the pink blog would suggest.

 Baby steps – it has to be. You only walk one step at a time, and never very far all at once. Especially in the midst of bereavement and difficulty. But steps are progress, and that’s where I am today, making small bits of progress.

Building up the numbers

So now I’m moving on to another stage in the adventure – parenting 4 instead of 3. While I think the biggest transition is from 1 to 2, when you have to learn how to juggle the needs of more than 1, each new child has bought their own unique flavour to our family.

 My third daughter, unlike the first two, had a piercing cry that was nerve-jangling. There was no way we could ever leave her while we just got on with something else, which led to quite a bit of baby-wearing for me.

 Now, we have the challenge of a boy to add to the mix. There are a few obvious new things to deal with, notably nappy changes were you have to play dodge. But I’m interested in how different I feel about him, even now, and how I can see that my mothering of him will be different in many ways without me neccessarily being deliberate about it.

 He thrills me when I look at his face, starting to fill out now, his perfect skin no longer fluffed with the fine hairs that he still had when he was born. He has a good head of hair and big ears – big features all round, a face that looks like it knows much more than a baby ever could.

 I’m fascinated by who he’s going to be, as I was with all the girls. But that frisson of difference just makes me very excited, because it’s almost like being a parent for the first time again, only this time I’m not so terrified and uncertain, wondering if I’ll ever sleep again.

 I’m glad I had my girls first – the Lord taught me how to be a woman through having them, and that was important, as my understanding of femininity had been scarred in many ways by my earlier life.

 But I had always wanted a son. Part of that, I can see now, was because I wanted to raise a man who would be different to the men I had known. I’m glad Reuben came after the girls now, though, because I can see I may well have had a bit of a Miss Haversham attitude to the whole thing if God hadn’t done some serious work in my heart.

 Now I’m confident that the man my husband and I want to raise is a servant-hearted Christ follower (not too different from my husband, as far as I’m concerned). How that pans out will be the adventure, of course.

Missing a Mother

Here I am again, having finally managed to log in to WordPress! I am also now the mother of four little ones, and the proud mother of brand new son, Reuben Elliot. At the moment, I feel very much like I have acheived everything I ever wanted. There’s an odd bittersweetness about that.

 When you have all you want at 30 – what then? Well, I shall certainly enjoy raising these little lives, and the past two weeks have been a glimpse into a hectic but fun future.

 I fear I am perhaps going to have to deal with a bout of Post natal Depression – I certainly feel a familiar need to want to hide away, and I’ve been persistently tearful for the past few days. It does tend to happen around this time of year with me normally, though. My mother died 7 years ago at the beginning of April, and the first stirrings of Spring always brings with it a melancholy yearning for my mother.

 Being a new mother again just makes that more likely. Over time, it’s become less about the flesh and blood woman who was my mother, I’ve noticed. Mum was a normal woman – a popular, kind lady who was very well thought of and had a funeral that was so well attended it was standing room only. She and I had a fraught relationship at times, but it seems so far away now that I struggle to clearly recall her face without the help of pictures.

 There was a time when I was deeply fearful of being like this about her, but now it’s happened, of course, I am content that it’s just the way life moves on.

 No, it’s not really that I miss Mum so much anymore – it’s that I miss having a Mother. I feel very alone right now – which is a little silly, really. I have a great husband, and my faith in Christ is still strong. But not having a mother really makes me feel empty in a way I can’t explain, and I can’t really see an answer to it either.

Eating together

So, today is my middle daughter’s third birthday. She’s out at the shops right now, spending some birthday money in the Early Learning Centre with Daddy. When they come back, we’re going to eat together, as we do most every single day.

 Eating together is one of the best things you can do to create a home. It’s one of the easiest, too. We’re having a ‘carpet picnic’ with pizza, coleslaw, garlic bread and potato salad, followed by cheerful pink iced birthday cake. We’ll eat it spread out on a blanket in the lounge, and I’ll be served in my chair by my eldest daughter who likes doing hostess sorts of things.

 Most days, we eat together at the table for evening meal, with the one exception being Saturday nights, which are date-night, when my husband and I eat together a little later.

 Now, this is a luxury to most people nowadays, with shift patterns and hectically busy lives. But eating together needn’t be something you set aside just because you cannot do it everyday, or can’t do it in the evening – or even at the same time each day you do it.

 There is something very special about sitting together as a family, giving thanks, and tucking in. It’s always fun to watch little ones enjoying food, and it’s always good to be reminded that these people you live with can be really good company It’s helpful to have a time when you can all share what you’ve got planned, or what you have done that day.

 If it’s just breakfast on Saturday morning, or Monday evening one week, Wednesday lunch the next, make a point of trying to eat together on a regular basis, without distractions like the television. I think you’ll be glad that you did.

More Muffin Adventures

Hi all,

 This is pretty much what it says on the tin. I’m a modern, western, Christian woman, and I’m a passionate homemaker. Expect to read housey, homey sorts of things here, ranging from recipes, how-we-do-things posts, stuff about mothering and home education and I hope you’ll go away inspired.

You’d think I have enough on my plate, what with the Pink Blog and actually doing all those things, never mind writing about them, but I’m nothing if not optimistic

  I’m still setting things up, so bear with me, but I hope to have more content for you soon.