Time appears to be the common thread that runs through the blogs I write.
My eldest, shortly to be eighteen will, with everything crossed, head to University in October.
My eldest step son and his wife are expecting their first baby in October.
It is ironic that as one leaves to start a new chapter as a grown up a new life will be born into the world and the growing up process starts over.
The time we get to spend with our children seems so short.
Zero to eighteen gone in an instant, a flash before your eyes, from baby onesies to torn and skinny jeans.
As a fifty plus parent I feel like I’m starting over, but this time, it isn’t my baby and I can hand him or her back at the end of the day.
I am older, wiser and have had greater life experiences.
The lessons I’ve learnt are plentiful and I have much to pass on and share with my step daughter but I will not give out advice unless asked.
I have learnt that as a woman and a mother shelling out advice whether asked for or not is destined to failure.
Celia, a very good friend of mine told me this; ‘the best advice I can give you, is don’t give any advice, that way you can’t be blamed for the fall out if it goes wrong’.
But what if your children ask for help or advice, that is different she says,’ because if they are asking it’s because they either need genuine help and are prepared to listen, if they then choose not to follow it then it can’t come back and bite you’.
Wise words that I have followed except when it comes to my own children whom I can’t help but tell rather than advise what they should do.
As a mum you learn as you go along not really registering the importance of what you are learning until out pops this information when you least expect it.
You become very good at talking to yourself; you can often find me in a store toilet muttering to myself reminders not to forget certain things. Other fellow mothers nod their heads and empathise, we are comrade in arms.
Motherhood definitely has some kind of biological effect on our brains, you can remember all the school activities for the week or term for that matter but as soon as you step into Tesco you forget the very thing you came in for.
It is a fact of life that being an experienced and older mother means you end up sitting on a plane with an infant screaming its face off only for the poor twenty plus mother to look at you beseechingly to take her child and have it sat on your lap for the rest of flight.
Am I really the holy baby shrine capable of soothing this crying baby?
Miraculously the wailing stops and everyone on the plane sighs with relief, the poor mother orders another gin and tonic, thank you, she says relieved.
Motherhood miraculously gives you a handful of wisdom way beyond your years, capable of solving all problems it seems, including climate change.
In reality we are all making it up as we go along and who determines what makes a great mother?
With books, websites and online forums depicting the perfect family, career and children, we can easily feel that we must be bad mothers because we don’t have a glamorous hair do or primed manicured nails, ‘super mom’ more like ‘poor mom’.
And because you failed to to make it to that football match because the train got stuck at Watford or you missed the school play at 4:30pm due to your meeting running overtime, you’re in big trouble.
Any missed event goes down in the book of no shows, and children very rarely forget it.
Parental judgement is one of the worst afflictions of being a parent, what to wear on your feet let alone body can mean the difference between being seen as cool and relevant by your thirteen year old or a fuddy duddy boring mother.
So, not a lot of pressure being a mother then?
Accepting the fact that as mothers we can’t in actual fact have it all, home, career and children, some things have gotta give and perfect parenting and motherhood is one of them.
There are always the reminders of the failures of being a mum even though you do your best to give your children time, love and your all.
Sometimes you just have to accept that perfection is unachievable but being a loving, caring and giving mum is more important than anything else.
And when my thirteen year old old tells me he loves me because, “well, you’re just mum” it is the most wonderful feeling in the world.