Only child syndrome and a little bit of gushing

I'm an only child. Fourth generation in fact. I didn't wish to continue the line of only children in our family. I always felt that if I could have more than one, I would like that very much.

Being an only child has its great advantages and I have loved many aspects that are associated with having my own space, growing up and having my family to myself. But as I grow older, I find being an only child can become one large and lonely place at times. 

It's interesting how my Mum, my Grandad and myself have different views and experiences - I observe my husband interacting with his family, my own children interacting with each other and I often crave that bond. Dear friends help to fill in the gap and my husband's family are fantastic too, they took me in as their own quite quickly. 

At moments like this though, the time when cancer corrodes my family's life as we know it, I could do with someone close to share concerns and plans with. That familial bond. My cousins have been lovely, sad part is that some have experienced similar already. One cousin in particular expressed something I will never forget - Cousins are a sibling from another parent - she understands my worries and feelings, though she may not realize how much that resonates with me and I love her even more for being available and caring enough to listen and talk.

I almost lost my Mum two weeks ago. She had two seizures, was rushed to hospital by ambulance and entered the ER in a coma. It wasn't a bad way to be - she slept through it all and felt nothing. Like us, totally numb. 

My Dad became a real life hero to me in that moment. He'll probably brush that statement off with a wince and a cheeky comment reaching the air but that weekend, along with the ambulance medical professionals, he really did assist in saving a life. Not many Mikey Joe Soaps can say that. He saved his wife, my mother, my grandfather's only child.

The aftermath has been tiring and emotionally draining, yet eye-opening and inspiring. 

We're not out of the woods. Mum's cancer has reduced in the main areas of her body, however it has spread to her brain, Small and scattered tumours, causing the seizures and adding to Mum's already busy schedule of hospital visits and treatments. Quite frustrating as this happened in the middle of her well-deserved break from chemotherapy. 

Mum is on a cocktail of medication, undergoing a fortnight of radiation, but we're not without good experiences and hope.  Doctors, nurses, friends, colleagues and solicitors have seen the positivity ooze out of my family. We've never been so open and comfortable with each other before. 

Simplifying life has become a shared focus. 

We don't feel like we're doing it on our own strength either, feeling the presence of our Heavenly Father and his "hands" on our shoulders, and sometimes behind our back, helping us through the tough stuff. 

Yes, it really would be a lovely thing to have a sibling to share this surreal experience with. That big brother dream I used to have. I mentally adopted family during my young teen years, and they've proved to be the kind of family I can open up to and rely on over the last few years. Two weeks ago, when Mum's breathing was so weak and a well-meaning doctor expressed that it would be wise for us to make our phonecalls, I spoke to my "big brother" over the phone, he and his lovely wife (my "big sister", Mum's close friend) were there at the other end of the line, albeit in a different country, but we were all connected. It felt like they were with us.

I have my supportive best friend/husband, my strong grandad, kind cousins, extended family, in-laws and generous friends to keep me going. And my dear lovely parents are ever present. My Mum is still here. Perhaps we are all grasping onto our pockets of precious time with more oomph than we did two weeks ago. If true, let that be so. This family is all I have and need. And I feel very blessed and grateful.

   

We SHALL go to the ball!

Brought my little girl to the cinema to see Disney's 'Cinderella' last weekend. She loved it and so did I.

Nostalgia breezed through me as I watched the dance. I recall watching an old movie version of Cinderella with a beautiful dancing scene resembling this one. So elegant. So graceful. So poetic.

Times like these, I wish we were able to go back in time and relish the costumes in that era. Beautiful gowns.

To share a few handholding moments with my baby girl was just so lovely. She got scared when the carriage reverted back to a pumpkin, so we held hands and she squeezed up to me. I may have enjoyed the moment more than her. I plan for more bonding moments like these ♥

Our gorgeous 3 friends were with us, which made the day very special - full of fun, pizza, play, icecream and fairytale endings. My childhood best friend (often sidekicks) and her 2 adorable children. There are 3 months between us 2 and 6 months between our 2 girls. Ever so hopeful that we can make efforts to help them bond like we did many years ago. I don't have many childhood memories without my lovely friend, and it would be so cute to see how our little ones develop their own friendship. We have 1 girl, 1 boy each. Who knows! Maybe their friendships can have a happy never-ending just like their mummies, 30 years on... ♥♡

Memoirs of a brand new 30 year old ;)

Last weekend, I put a jacket in my 'give away' bag, couldn't bring myself to do it just yet, so took it right out again. Dan asked why, and I said 'smell it and you'll understand... or maybe you won't...' It still smells of my Grandma... I was 5 months pregnant with our little boy when she died. When both of my children do cute things, I send my Grandad, my parents and Dan's family a message or a photograph/video - and miss telling my Grandma every time. I still haven't deleted her mobile number from my phone.

I also share a soft toy apple with my cousins, bought in a local newsagents on the day our Nana died. It was something that made us smile on a difficult day and triggers a memory of a shared moment in time. I was going out with Dan at the time, so she didn't make my wedding and didn't meet our 2 little sweethearts. And I think of her often, suddenly tasting madeira cake in my mouth, smelling sweet milky tea and visualising Silvermints peaking out from behind a picture frame in her living room, I still remember her home phone number.

I used to email Uncle Kevin with anecdotes, photos and corny jokes, and we'd exchange lovely updates via texts from him about our little girls ('our' being his daughter Em and my daughter T who was 1 year and 3 months when he died). To me, he was so similar to my own Dad, his sense of humour and character, hence we got on well. I was very fond of him and his kind qualities. He reminded me of my Nana too, and I wish I was as good as they were at keeping in touch with extended family. I can't bring myself to delete his email address, it's still saved as a contact in my email account.

What probably started off this sentimental post was this - last night, I went to sleep in my 20's. This morning, I woke up in my 30's.

It's a funny feeling. Those of you who know me, know that I don't celebrate events such as birthdays, Mothers' day etc, any event with unchristian origins. It still makes an impression on me though, becoming a little older... perhaps I'll be taken a bit more seriously now. I found when people heard the word 'twenty' at the beginning of my age, it didn't seem to matter that I was a mum of 2, or that I'd quite possibly experienced some things they never had. It was all about a number. A low number. A number that indicates youth, lack of maturity.  I have a lovely friend, also a mum, gone through more things in life than I could even imagine. I feel she's nothing like others I know in our age group, certainly seems more mature than me at times, and she's a couple of years younger than me! The danger of assumption.

While I notice many I know are celebrating Mothers today, I hope I become worthy of my family, especially my children, celebrating me and my efforts more often than once a year. No need for chocolates, flowers or cuppa in bed (though all VERY welcome). A loving kiss, a warm affectionate cuddle (aka 'cwtch', Welsh word for such a hug) or a gesture from the heart is more than enough to help me feel appreciated and loved. Won't matter what age I'll be. As long as they love me. When my babies volunteer such gestures, I melt.

Be still, my beating heart  ♥

Letter to my daughter

Dear Teagan,

I knew about you 6 years ago, a scan introduced us formally and from then on, we got to know each other.

You had hiccups often, that didn't change much after you were born and these days, at the ripe old age of 5, you often like to argue with me about the best way to get rid of your hiccups.

You are sweet, sensitive, comical and stubborn. You know your own mind, just like me, your mum, and I love that about you (sometimes ;) ). I'm trying to bond with you more recently because I see you are growing up so fast and you and I are so similar in ways, we grate on each other at times. I don't want you thinking I don't care. I do care. A lot. I see similarities in you and I, as I see them in my own mum and I.

We're odd beings, you and I. We mean well, we take things personally and we stick our feet into the mud too much, but I'm told we're still very loveable. That matters too, kiddo. So take a deep breath, look around, see what and who truly matter in your life and embrace it. Friends will come and go but your family is your safety net, your haven.

We love you.

I love you.

Love Mum xx

My darling daughter

Teagan is turning 4 very soon and today she asked if she could type a message to 'Daddy's Mummy & Daddy'. 'I want to type - Thank you for my books and toys'.

So she did (with a little guidance) :) 

Can't believe how she's progressing. She's a strong willed little girl, with an adorable little heart of gold too. Love her <3

My little girl's expression of love

While enjoying my breakfast in bed this morning (brownie points awarded to Dan for this), Teagan stood at the bottom of the stairs and shouted up: 'Mummy,... *gobbledegook* the spoon!'

Me: 'Oh right...
Teagy? Mummy will be come downstairs in a few minutes okay?'

T: 'Okay Mummy!'

Me: 'Thank you Teagy, I love you'

T: 'I love you Mummy'

Me: 'I love you more!'

T: 'I love you more a (than) dancing!'

Me: 'You love Mummy more than dancing?? Really??'

T: 'Yes!'

I thought to myself - You win you clever kid. She's obsessed with dancing of late :)