Isn’t it amazing how, despite the signs being painfully clear and so very obvious, that we often choose to ignore the big neon metaphoric flashing sign that is yelling so very clearly at us to GO THIS WAY!
This weekend was the kids’ school fair, where I got to spend my entire day jumping up and down on one of the stalls with a buddy of mine, selling, chatting and goofing around with parents, kids and teachers. As a full time working parent, who doesn’t usually get involved with the fundraising events at school and who is ‘one of those’ mums that usually guiltily buys a cake to donate instead of making one, doing something productive and co-creative with the kids reminded me of the fact that recently in my life, I have once again not been doing enough of the things that really honour all of me and my different roles, especially that all-important one of being a mum.
I hadn’t realised that by focusing so much on my work, which is of course a necessity for multiple reasons, that me and my cubs had not been getting the nourishment or support that we all need so very much to live, grow and deal with the constant navigational changes required to steer each other through our daily lives without our daddy bear.
Ironically yesterday, as if the universe was saying ‘oh and just incase you didn’t get it, here is another sign for ya!’ the school principle called me in as my son Jesse, for his third time in two weeks, had turned up at the school office with some kind of ailment. He of course realised that with the obvious ups and downs leading up to the two year anniversary, that my intuitive little dude is clearly going through his own little anxieties, moments of intense sadness and very challenging and completely self-imposed role of protector to his mummy, despite my constant reassurance that it is my job to take care of me and his to have fun! After a solo session with the school counselor and many a tear, out pottered my little man.
‘You ok little guy?’ I asked. ‘Yeah mum, I just really hurt my knee and thought it was best to come home and let you ice it, cause you know about sore knees from when you used to skate’, he replied.
He didn’t mention a word about what he discussed with the counselor or a breath about longing for his dad, until about 1am when he unusually tiptoed into my room and climbed into bed, snuggled into my neck and said nothing but, ‘I miss dad.’ And went to sleep.
So instead of fighting, resenting or getting lost in the sadness of the situation, I am choosing to read the signs and send gratitude to my beautiful Andy for creating this very unexpected little life of ours right now and for my beautiful little cubs that remind me of WHO and WHAT MOST is important.