Categories
Life

A Silence

I am tidying the mess my three children have made. Motherhood has broken me, today. It has hurt me, it has hurt them, and all because I have failed to be perfect. And so have they.

But as I am down on my hands and knees, moving toys from here to there, I understand that I am in two places at once. I am here, among the chaos, among the evidence that three uncontrollable children live here.

And I am also seven years ago, when I paced around the living room, my stomach contracting with a baby that I would never actually get to meet.

Tonight, I know the gift of my children, despite the chaos they sometimes bring.

Tonight, I understand the beautiful silence of that night seven years ago. The same silence as tonight. A silence that asked me, then, to be fully there with my baby because we deserved that time to know each other.

A silence that lives imperfectly, now, for my children.

Each and every day that I live.

For them.

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Categories
Motherhood

Waiting For Baby

It’s a beautiful time, for me. I’m seven weeks away from meeting my sweet little baby number three, and nesting has well and truly begun.

Life has been busy and forceful, if I look at it carefully and agree with the truth of it. Lockdown and homeschooling. Rushing to finish painting our home before baby arrives (I simultaneously love painting, and never want to see another tin of paint again.)

Beneath it all, though, lies a quiet hum. A hum so lovely, I’m certain it’s the stuff a summer breeze is made of. Lately, it’s been with me when I open the baby’s wardrobe; I stand there a little longer than I need to, just because it’s so lovely to be with my baby in that ‘real’ kind of way.

It’s the same loveliness that occasionally stands with me at my children’s doorway while they sleep. And, although I’ll never deny that motherhood aches and destroys at times, I’ll always be grateful for the quiet moments it brings my soul.

I’m home in this softness.

I’m well and truly home in this place.

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Categories
Poetry

Parents

To the parents.

Sometimes it is hard.

It is.

It just is.

Always remember the storms do pass.

Always remember the softness

and the sweetness,

the rose beyond the grey.

And we will grow them

perfectly

horribly

beautifully.

And all will be as it should.

All will be as it should.

I see you.

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Categories
Poetry

Tonight

Tonight

I tear again.

The ache of a mother

remembering her ducklings, sweet.

It’s a long, long road to the deep end of a soul.

And some days ripple and crash

more than other days do.

The rain falls inside.

Tonight.

mother holding her baby
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Categories
A Blog a Day in May

Mum

And then her name was Mum.

Just like that.

Happy Mothers day,

beautiful, Mum.

I see you.

And you are all the bits of magic.

Lots of love,

Brooke. xxx (Aka: Mum.)

animals baby care faces
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