There have been many bad nights around here, which have resulted in bad days.
Just the other day I was complaining to Phil that I was so far from being the mum that i want to be.
And then yesterday, inbetween the moaning and the tantruming and the shrieking there was an hour that went right. An hour of me making the choices I wish I always made, and my two year
We did butterfly splotch paintings, which were a BIG hit. They are something that I really can let go and let him do.
And then, when I went outside to hang them on our closeline, a bare-bummed, bare-footed child followed me out. I started to tell him that he could only come out with shoes on, and then stopped- because why? Sure, the tarmac isn’t fabulous for feet but it’s not bad either. So I offered shoes, and he declined. He then demanded his paddling pool, so I complied.
Obviously his paddling pool wasn’t for going in, but for a large access to water and to just generally be naked. So water went down the slide and he followed. We had to come up with a landing pad (half of a foot muff from our pram) because his bum got a little too scraped up! But it was good. It was good to just let him try and see. It was good to follow his lead and not worry.
I don’t want to be the mum who doesn’t let her child run in playgrounds. I hate hearing parents tell their children that they *will* fall/get hurt. They *might*, so? Did we never have scraped knees? My parents let me climb trees and explore and gave me a guided freedom. I wish that for my children too.