Home is in this house.
The quiet of my love for them.
The dreams of my essence, racing into a fresh new world.
Home, you are my refuge.
Family, you are my home.
Tag: Parenthood
Categories
Little Sun
Never forget, little Sun.
You are so loved.
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.
Darling is the little boy that cannot sleep.
‘I think I need a bandaid, Mum. Mum? I think I need a bandaid.’
They start their tricks young, these beautiful tiny humans, don’t they.
I’ve had wine.
And I’ve had my Dad and my sister for the first time since the government has allowed me to have them…for months.
So I’m fifteen minutes late for the darling day, which technically means I’ve missed it. (Meep. 😛 )
But I assure you, darling day sixteen was lovely, however delayed.
There was a walk with nature, where I listened to all the dreamy love songs and dreamed all the dreamy dreams.
There was a burst of ten dogs by the lake: a gang of large German Sheppards / golden retrievers on their first get together since ‘lockdown’ restriction eased.
And then there was love.
My Dad and my sister—my two brothers will be next.
Really.
It was a darling, darling day.
I love my ‘unconditional’ people.
More than life, I truly love my unconditional people.
Dearest darling bunny ones
my hop-a-long divine,
this Mother’s heart will always beat
to find your hands in mine.
One life I share with you my dears,
one chance I have to say:
I’ll do my very best to be
my best in every way.
If not for me, then for you both,
I’ll fly into my shine,
and hope the twinkle raises you,
beyond each wish of mine.
So, happy day, my darlings two,
you’ve made my heart fly free,
and to your sleepy dreams, I’ll send
a loving kiss from me.
***
Happy Mother’s Day, my lovely bloggy friends.
To the Mothers. To the Daughters.
To the women who mother themselves SO beautifully, and share the way with the rest of us.
Thank you.
You are always enough. Even when you doubt your worth, you are ALWAYS just a step away from finding it again. Trust. The wind will take you there, I’m so sure.
xx
So much love,
Brooke.
(Yeah, yeah. All the mushy love hearts, you know what I’m like 😛 Whatevs. 😛 )
She wobbled along, the little darling on wheels.
Two wheels (which seemed to be the problem.)
Mum balanced her own bike between her legs, guiding her duckling as best she could, until at last:
there was flight.
As I strolled along behind the two,
occasionally glancing into the shedding trees,
the Mum within me hoped.
Please let the little duckling balance.
Please let the little duckling fly.
After a while, the two disappeared and I forgot the darling struggle.
Forgot the invisible cord that attached my empathy to the shake, wobble, roll.
Once again, I was lost.
Within the bliss-filled world of me,
I was lost.
Until I was no longer lost,
but right back where I began.
Face to face
with one
precious
fallen
duckling.
Everything within me wished to reach for her.
To hold her for a while.
To look into her eyes, and have her understand
that without the fall…
the true beauty of flight
would never be known to her.
Darling was the little duckling
that stole my heart on this darling day of May.
Darling was how hard she tried.
And darling was the invisible cord of life
that connected us.
Darling is the grace of every whispered,
‘You’re beautiful.’
You melt my soul with those words.
Every shimmer of my soul, you melt it.
Darling are the minutes next to the moments
that I sit alone and realise…I’m happy.
Happy to gaze into my own eyes.
Happy that I am all the lovely things
to someone.
I am that someone.
Everyday I am someone, to me.
Darling is feeling like I’m already there.
The warm anticipation that says:
Something’s coming.
Something good.
But until it finds you, life is yours.
Now.
And, my goodness, it is beautiful.
Darling is you and me.
It’s them and it’s us. Together.
And it’s life.
All the way round, it is life.
So let’s live these darling days,
in all the ways.
Because that’s
what life
is for.
Welcome to day one, my beautiful bloggy friends. I cannot wait to spend the rest of the darling month of May…with all of you. xx Brooke
Categories
Winter Is Coming
We’re heading into winter in Australia, and I’m feeling the resistance rising already.
I’ve come to dread winter for the internal obstacles it brings. Sunny days charge my batteries and fill my joy pots to a state of ‘just so’, and yet here comes winter to tear my joy pots apart once more.
The problem lies not only in the darkness that will inevitably replace the beautiful streams of sunlight that flood my lounge room, daily, but also the lack of choice that will come attached to the forthcoming rainy days. So, kids. I guess it’s a stay inside again, kind of day, today. That sort of thing.
My children are three and six years old. And I have been in training to be their Mum my whole life because, essentially, I’ve done it all before, being the much older sibling to my two brothers and sister (now adults, where does time go? I’ll always be amazed.)
The thing is: winter makes me feel as though I might not be as wonderful at this ‘Mum thing’ as I always dreamed I’d be. Winter melts me into a bit of a tizz, to put it lightly, because the truth is: there are only so many hours of yes in my Mum tank to keep these little ones (and myself) happy in the face of a rainy day.
And so I’m really quite frightened at what’s to come. Especially this winter, now that I don’t have a partner in crime to lighten the load every second week when the children are with me.
The bright side of this admission is this— I am doing an excellent job at being human. I am seeing the reality of my limitations and admit that I just may need a little bit of extra help this time around.
I’m tired. I’m so tired of lying to myself, pretending that the things, situations, people, scenarios that I’m not entirely okay with…are all sunshine and rainbows. They are not. Dark clouds have existed since the beginning of time. They do not disappear simply because I insist upon looking to the sky and telling everyone around me that they are white.
I wish I wasn’t dreading winter. I wish I wasn’t sometimes afraid that I might break my children—the latter is something I am particularly scared of. My Mum was diagnosed with Bi-Polar disorder in my early teenage years, and I am still trying to pick up all the pieces of her broken within me.
I do know I will be okay, and I do know my beautiful babies will be okay, too. I am a beautiful Mother (if I don’t say so myself) and I don’t need a sunny day to tell me the love I bring to my babies’ lives is filling their spirits with all the lovely things.
Winter is the mountain that lay ahead of me. But this awareness is, at least, a good thing because it gives me time to gather my climbing tools and prepare for the climb. Life can be so hard, sometimes, but there has never been a day of it that has not been worth the struggle.
Because I am me, and I am Mum.
How beautiful to be able to hold those titles with such love, and pride, and grace.
I am not your sun.
I am a sun.
I can show you how to glimmer and warm and burn.
But I do not have to be your sun.
I am
my own sun.
Beautiful and true.
And I shine,
so that you may find your own strength
and beauty
in the stream of my rays.
