by Katinka | May 12, 2014 | 2014, Adoption, Adoptive Parents, Awareness, Being Thankful, Child Care, Childhood, Communication, Cultural Differences, Family, Health, Inspirational, Mental Health, Motherhood, Parenting, Penguin and Panther, Relationships, Special Needs, Stress, World Motherhood, Younger Children
Even before I became a mother, I had a particular wish for my future children. Looking back at several not so fond memories of my childhood, I vowed I would do everything for them to have a better one. They shouldn’t have to grow up too fast. They would not have to feel unwanted, misunderstood or worthless. I would guard their innocence and happiness like a hawk.
The major driving force behind the different attempts of therapy I tried throughout the years, was the well-being of my (future) kids. I wouldn’t allow mistakes in motherhood.
In fact, I didn’t want them to become like me at all. Just like the mother who really tries hard not to show her child how much she is freaked out by spiders, in order not to raise a little arachnophobic like herself. My list of not-to-pass-ons was just longer: low self esteem, perfectionism, fear of failure, social clumsiness, easy overstimulation and of course CFD: ‘continuously fretting disorder’.
The first five years of motherhood, I had the impression I could accomplish all this. I actually felt like the perfect mother: patient, involved, crafty, warm. I even managed to stick to my not-to-pass-on-list. It would cost me quite some effort, but I would not interfere when my son was building a crooked tower, so he could not catch my perfectionism. Trying not to pass on perfectionism while desperately trying to be a perfect mother. It may sound absurd now, but back then, it totally made sense.
Three years ago, my perfect balance in motherhood shifted drastically. When our son turned five, we couldn’t ignore anymore that he was going to develop at a speed different from his peers. At the same time, our adopted daughter arrived, aged two and a half.
They both forced me to face my demons better than any therapy has ever done throughout the years.
My son and I, we discovered developing an intelligence and sensitivity far beyond our physical age, is a struggle we share. Where his friends will watch a grazing cow on a field trip and complain about the stench, he will likely try to understand why this mammal has four stomachs, how to measure the circumference of the pasture and how long it would take for the cow to eat all that grass. And how much dung it would have produced by then, of course. His sense of humour is still a seven year old’s.
My daughter and I, we’ve been battling childhood trauma and attachment disorder together. We cried together in the shower numerous times, holding each other fiercely. The battle has been rough. It still is. Sometimes I just can’t comfort her like I should, because I need comforting myself. But she amazes me with a resilience I just can’t manage. She might be jumping on the trampoline and singing imaginary happy-songs, while I crash on the couch to mentally recover from holding her mourning and kicking little body for over half an hour.
It has been extremely painful to see my least fond childhood memories revive in my kids.
Comforting a son that feels like an alien, desperately trying to cover up his super powers because he just wants to blend in. Reassuring a daughter that follows me around the house like a puppy because she just can’t believe she won’t be abandoned again.
Painful. Heart wrenching. And feeding the CFD by the tons.
However, I’m seeing now that our struggles do not necessarily have to be the same. Because, you know, they have me. Of course I can’t protect them from being hurt. No mother can do that for her children. It’s one of the curses of being a mother.
But as it turns out, as a ‘damaged’ mother, I might be the perfect guide for my heavy-hearted children.
I’m teaching my son first handed how to make use of his extraterrestrial powers, without a need to blend in. I’m even coaching him in failing and making mistakes without believe it’s the end of the world. I surely acknowledge how important that lesson is. He’ll get it much earlier than I did.
I’m confidently ignoring outsiders’ advice on how to deal with my daughter’s anxieties, since I recognize how she feels. When she’s grieving, I guard her like an eagle that will not allow anyone to question or mock her tears of grief. I’m determined to give her what I never got. I will make her feel loved and understood. Unconditionally.
Me, I’ve only discovered how to find happiness after a painful and lonely journey.
I intend to show my children all the short cuts.
They will have a splendid childhood.
How do you see your own childhood reflected in your children? Is it mostly warm or can it be painful as well?
This is an original post to World Moms Blog by K10K from The Penguin and The Panther.
The picture in this post is credited to the author.
If you ask her about her daytime job, Katinka will tell you all about the challenge of studying the fate of radioactive substances in the deep subsurface. Her most demanding and rewarding job however is raising four kids together with five other parents, each with their own quirks, wishes and (dis)abilities. As parenting and especially co-parenting involves a lot of letting go, she finds herself singing the theme song to Frozen over and over again, even when the kids are not even there...
More Posts
by Tinne from Tantrums and Tomatoes | May 5, 2014 | 2014, Awareness, Being Thankful, Belgium, Communication, Cultural Differences, Culture, Eye on Culture, Family, Holiday, Husband, Inspirational, International, Kids, Motherhood, Tantrum and Tomatoes, Traditions, Womanhood, World Motherhood
These days, the internet is humming with all things Mother’s Day related: special brunches, crafts, gift ideas. All for that special person you get to call ‘Mom’.
Mother’s Day earned its place on the calendar thanks to the efforts of American Anna Marie Jarvis. She organized the first Mother’s Day to commemorate her own mother, Ann Reeves Jarvis, who had helped organise the ‘Mother’s Day Help Clubs’ during the American Civil War. In 1914, Woodrow Wilson decided that Mommy Dearest would get her special day each second-Sunday of May.
Not here. In the rest of Belgium, yes. But not in the province of Antwerp. Here we wait until the 15th of August.
Not because we disdain the second Sunday of May, nor have a problem with holidays coming from across the Atlantic. No, as a matter of fact both the American and Antwerp traditions originated at much the same time.
For Antwerp and its surroundings it all began in 1913 when Antwerp born artist Frans Pieter Lodewijk van Kuyck started the tradition as a way of getting people to pay more attention to family values and social order. Modernisation and the industrial revolution, Mr. van Kuyck felt, had screwed society up a wee bit too much and it was time to take a stand, to defend traditional ways.
And since Mother is at the core of the family, when better to highlight her importance than on the 15th of August, the feast of the Assumption of the Virgin Mary. A Catholic feast already celebrated in Antwerp with a huge procession honouring the Virgin as protector of the city. There already was a party going on anyway, so why not add a little extra?
Mr. van Kuyck was not only an artist, he was also alderman for Culture and Fine Arts of the city of Antwerp. So in this official capacity he set up a propaganda committee, mobilised schools, companies and media into promoting the celebration of Mother. Children were to make a special gift and fathers were expected to buy flowers or jewellery. Brunch had not yet come into fashion then, otherwise I’m sure he would have made it mandatory too.
The rest of Belgium did not follow, but instead adapted the new ‘American’ version. Thus, during May when every other mother in the country smiles her lovely so-happy-with-the-macaroni-necklace smile and updates her Facebook status with pictures of her breakfast in bed/fresh flowers/chocolates/whatever…we trudge on and wait our turn until August.
Have no fear, thanks to the school’s Craft Hour, I too receive a pretty handmade gift from my daughters in May. But my husband still has to buy my flowers in August. Nah.
Does your country have a special Mother’s Day tradition? Or do you celebrate differently?
This is an original post to World Moms Blog from our writer in Belgium, Tinne, of Tantrums and Tomatoes.
The image used in this post is credited to the author.
Born in Belgium on the fourth of July in a time before the invention of the smart phone Tinne is a working mother of two adorably mischievous little girls, the wife of her high school sweetheart and the owner of a black cat called Atilla.
Since she likes to cook her blog is mainly devoted to food and because she is Belgian she has an absurd sense of humour and is frequently snarky. When she is not devoting all her attention to the internet, she likes to read, write and eat chocolate. Her greatest nemesis is laundry.
More Posts - Website
Follow Me:
by Fiona Biedermann (Australia) | Apr 28, 2014 | Awareness, Child Care, Childhood, Family, Health, Human Rights, Life Lesson, Loss of Child, Oceania, Parenting, Relationships, Safety, Tragedy, Uncategorized, World Motherhood, Younger Children
As parents I’ve always believed that all of us want our children to achieve their full potential and to do amazing things with their lives, we also never want for them to be fearful of anything, real or imagined.
But what happens when a child’s fear is not imagined and is in fact very real. When the one thing they’re most fearful of is the person who they should be able to trust the most?
A story in the news this week in Adelaide has parents—actually not just parents but every living, breathing individual—up in arms over the treatment of a four-year-old little girl in 2012, who died as a result of the cruel treatment dished out by her mother and her boyfriend.
As the story is told, they put this little girl on a 50kg motorbike and over a period of three days made her ride it around the backyard while they videotaped it for their own enjoyment. Despite her terror and numerous crashes, they kept picking her up and putting her back on.
A final crash into a tree at almost 40km/h caused serious injury and despite complaining of her injuries when they put her to bed they did nothing. The following day she slipped into unconsciousness and they waited a further eight hours before seeking help, turning instead to Google for answers about what to do when someone is unconscious. She died as a result of them not seeking medical assistance.
There are many more facts, there’s much more to the story and there’s also a history of social welfare intervention—but nobody actually stepped in and took this child away from her mother, nobody in fact did anything to save her despite their knowledge that things weren’t quite right.
This week, the mother and her boyfriend were both sentenced, with the mother receiving an eight-year prison sentence with a non-parole period of just under five years. That’s a measly year in prison for every year her child was alive.
It’s a pitiful and sad sentence but sadly I think it’s also indicative of the ‘hands off’ society that we’re now living in.
I understand that in this day and age we don’t want to get involved, we mind our own business and we look after our own. But I also think it’s a sad state of affairs when, as individuals, we shy away from getting involved when an innocent and trusting little girl is left in the clutches of such disturbed people.
I also think it’s a travesty of mammoth proportions that with all our laws and child protection agencies that nobody saved this little girl.
I know bad things happen to small children and it makes my stomach churn each and every time I hear about one of them. Little Chloe Valentine was just one of many, who as a society we all failed to protect. (Please be aware that I have not linked to any of the footage or the story as I find it too upsetting to watch or read about)
No I didn’t know her personally but as a parent who cherishes her own children and grandchildren it makes me sick to even hear about it. I will stand up and get involved when something is going on around me which I know to be wrong. These children are our future and just because they don’t have a voice doesn’t mean we can’t do something about it.
As a result of this case, Adelaide will see a total overhaul of child protection laws with an inquest into the failure of social welfare to intervene. For little Chloe, it’s a case of too-little-too-late, but one can only hope that we can all learn from this and prevent this kind of thing ever happening again.
I know that sometimes we should stay out of things which aren’t our business but in this case would you have gotten involved?
This is an original World Moms Blog post by Fiona from Inspiration to Dream of Adelaide, South Australia.
The image used in this post is credited to .craig. It holds a Flickr Creative Commons attribution license.
Fiona at Inspiration to Dream is a married mother of three amazing and talented MM’s (mere males, as she lovingly calls them) aged 13, 16 and 22, and she became a nana in 2011!
She believes she’s more daunted by becoming a nana than she was about becoming a mother! This Aussie mother figures she will also be a relatively young nana and she’s not sure that she’s really ready for it yet, but then she asks, are we ever really ready for it? Motherhood or Nanahood. (Not really sure that’s a word, but she says it works for her.)
Fiona likes to think of herself as honest and forthright and is generally not afraid to speak her mind, which she says sometimes gets her into trouble, but hey, it makes life interesting. She’s hoping to share with you her trials of being a working mother to three adventurous boys, the wife of a Mr Fix-it who is definitely a man’s man and not one of the ‘sensitive new age guy’ generation, as well as, providing her thoughts and views on making her way in the world.
Since discovering that she’s the first blogger joining the team from Australia, she also plans to provide a little insight into the ‘Aussie’ life, as well. Additionally, Fiona can be found on her personal blog at Inspiration to Dream.
More Posts
by Meredith (USA) | Apr 25, 2014 | 2014, Awareness, Communication, Education, Family, Gun Violence, Kids, Life Lesson, Motherhood, Parenting, Safety, School, Tragedy, USA, World Motherhood, Younger Children
Growing up in Illinois, when I was in elementary school, it was commonplace for our school to have several emergency drills in case there was a tornado. We knew to hide under our desks and cover our heads with our hands and wait until the drill was over. The thought behind the drill was that we would be ready if a disaster ever struck. We followed up with fire drills as well. We prepared for what we knew could happen but hoped would never happen to us… (more…)
Meredith finds it difficult to tell anyone where she is from exactly! She grew up in several states, but mainly Illinois. She has a Bachelor of Science degree in Elementary Education from the University of Illinois at Champaign/Urbana which is also where she met her husband. She taught kindergarten for seven years before she adopted her son from Guatemala and then gave birth to her daughter two years leter. She moved to Lagos, Nigeria with her husband and two children in July 2009 for her husband's work. She and her family moved back to the U.S.this summer(August 2012) and are adjusting to life back in the U.S. You can read more about her life in Lagos and her adjustment to being back on her blog: We Found Happiness.
More Posts
by Olga Mecking | Apr 21, 2014 | 2014, Awareness, Being Thankful, Bilingual, Communication, Family, Health, Humanity, Humor, Kids, Language, Life Balance, Maternal Health, Motherhood, Netherlands, Parenting, Siblings, World Motherhood, Younger Children
One of my very favourite human qualities is a sense of humour. I must confess that I sometimes find people lacking this wonderful quality, as boring. It isn’t nice of course but I believe a sense of humour is paramount to any human’s well being or even survival. Especially if you’re a mom.
I love all kinds of humour: simple, sophisticated, absurd, or even black humour. By the latter, I mean of course, serious matters that are funny.
When my days are filled with screams and cries and tantrums, the only thing that keeps me afloat is laughing about it. And when I share my pearls of wisdom on Facebook, not only does it make me feel better, it makes others feel better, too. I also love reading snarky, funny, honest posts that make me nod my head in agreement. When times are hard, humour helps me survive.
We all know that parenting is tough and humour can help with that as well. I, for one, rely heavily on it. When my daughter refuses to put on her jacket, I ask her to put on her pj’s. Then her bathing suit. Then her bathrobe. She laughs, says no to all I suggest and puts on her jacket without any problems. That is, obviously provided that I actually remember to laugh instead of to yell.
I often try to persuade my big girl that I have 10 legs. She kindly and patiently explains that no I really can’t have 10 legs. “Why?” I ask her. She tries to explain that humans only have 2 legs but to no avail. I really need to know why I only have 2 legs, not 10. I mean, 2 legs, how lame is that! At some point, she cracks up and so do I and we both laugh until we can’t laugh anymore.
So you see, it is not very surprising that I want my children to have a sense of humour and a big one at that. Puns, laughter and jokes are normal in our house. And already, I begin seeing it in my children. For instance, I loved a recent conversation with my three-year old.
“Mama?”- she asks me, with a glint in her eye, and a smile playing in the corner of her mouth.
“Yes, J?”- I answer, wondering what she’s going to say.
“Mama?”- she repeats, her tone still serious but the smile more visible.
“Yes, J?”- I repeat, not sure what to think of it.
“Pee-Pah-Paw!” she says, out of nowhere, her laughter filling the house. “Pee-pah-paw”- I say, and soon the whole family joins her till our bellies hurt.
My baby has a mischievous smile that makes my heart melt. When he laughs, I think I’m the luckiest mom on Earth. I ‘m sure that he too will grow up to have a sense of humour, just like his sisters.
I especially love when they make multilingual jokes, like “Ja-vocado” and “Nie-vocado” (“ja” is “yes” in German while “nie” means “no” in Polish). When asked what a ja-vocado is, my eldest daughter said that it’s a fruit that is yellow on the outside and pink on the inside and it is sweet and very delicious and that she likes it a lot.Funny that she can imagine liking fruit that doesn’t even exist.
I am always surprised how many functions humour can have: it can help you through tough times. It can turn a rejection into cooperation, in children and adults alike. It makes children clever and great with languages. It makes us see things in a different way.This is why I feel it is so important.
I’m not funny all the time, though and that’s fine. It’s OK to be sad sometimes. I won’t pretend that my day is better than it is. But when I remember, I find in myself the strength to stick my tongue out at the universe and say: “Pee-Pah-Paw”. And laugh until my belly hurts.
Are you raising your kids to have a sense of humour or appreciate humour?
This is an original post to World Moms Blog from our writer in the Netherlands, Olga Mecking.
The image used in this post is credited to cherijoyful. It holds a Flickr Creative Commons attribution license.
Olga is a Polish woman living in the Netherlands with her German husband. She is a multilingual expat mom to three trilingual children (even though, theoretically, only one is trilingual since she's old enough to speak). She loves being an expat, exploring new cultures, learning languages, cooking and raising her children. Occasionally, Olga gives trainings in intercultural communication and works as a translator. Otherwise, you can find her sharing her experiences on her blog, The European Mama. Also take a while to visit her Facebook page .
More Posts - Website
Follow Me:
by Karyn Wills | Apr 14, 2014 | 2014, Awareness, Being Thankful, Brothers, Communication, Family, Kids, Life Lesson, Motherhood, New Zealand, Older Children, Parent Care, Siblings, World Moms Blog, World Motherhood
The author with her three boys
When my boys were small, it was easy to find ways for them to nurture. They all had dolls and stuffed animals to care for and I tried hard to let them hug me whenever they wanted, even when it was really inconvenient or awkward, or snotty, or tiring for me.
But it got harder, when they got older. Dolls gave way to LEGO and cars, then Nerf guns and Minecraft. Time away from me at kindy or school, or play-dates or sport, meant the hugs, while no less enthusiastic, were less frequent. I realised I had to be more lateral in seeing their nurturing: Life had changed and they had grown beyond my initial, pre-baby, plans and ideas.
It came to me in a flash of understanding, a few weeks ago, how much their being in service to me, is their way of nurturing and this is what I now focus on, for this part of their growth and development.
The times when they tell me to sit on the sofa and do nothing, I need to listen to them and do as they wish. And while I have always accepted their offerings of daisies and dandelions picked from the lawn and scrunched in tiny hands, I now have to accept them pouring my wine and cooking my dinner – without my input.
The times they volunteer to do these things, I need to keep my directions to myself and my appreciation flowing – despite my discomfort at sitting still while they work and despite the painful slowness with which they perform these tasks.
I have also learned to accept them opening doors for me. They do this not because they think I can’t manage to do so for myself, but because it’s a way they can show me that they care for me.
And I accept their offerings, not because I think I deserve this gesture because of my gender, or my age, or my position as grand dame in their lives, but because I see it for what it is: Nurturing of me, and something to be valued and encouraged.
Apologies have also become a point of nurturing. In our house, they are seen not as just social niceties and empty words, but as a starting point for repairing a battered emotional bond. After an apology-needing moment they almost always ask, “How can I make things better?” And are wonderful at showing they really do mean their words via their actions. They nurture their relationship with me, as I do with them.
No, they aren’t angel children who do these things all the time. They still need direction and they can be down right horrid. They are often disorganised and they are often messy, noisy and silly. But they do show their ability to nurture in a variety of ways. I just have to look at their actions from a different perspective, and accept their gestures as signs of the loving emotion behind them.
How do your children show you they care?
This is an original post to World Moms Blog from our writer in New Zealand and mother of 3 loving boys, Karyn.
The photograph used in this post is credited to the author.
Karyn is a teacher, writer and solo mother to three sons. She lives in the sunny wine region of Hawke’s Bay, New Zealand in the city of Napier.
More Posts
