Tag Archives: early motherhood

Sep19

“What’s left of me is yours” by Stephanie Scott

Posted on by
Standard

Did you ever hear about “wakaresaseya”? It is a business in Japan which delivers broken marriages and divorces through agents who play the lover to elicit “evidence” of adultery. In short, they are breaker-uppers. People with pecuniary interests and/or desire to keep the child often make recourse to such services. This novel is inspired by a real murder trial in Tokyo in 2010.

« What’s left of me is yours » is a story told through the eyes of a child caught in the middle of this adults’ game. It is also a story of a woman who was pulled in the game by her bitter and broken husband. It is the story of the agent who fell in love with his target and their mutual love. It is the story of a man who had to become a father again when his grandchild lost her mother in this cruel manipulation. It is a story of choices between getting stuck in revenge and building a future, hide away or embrace humanity.

I loved Scott’s beautiful writing style. It made me witness events, feel the emotions of characters, smell the ocean and hear the sounds of places where it took me.

Jun6

An autumn love story

Posted on by
Standard

On a warm autumn day, in a town on the Mediterranean, I let my kid choose where she wanted to have lunch. Her choice led us to a place were locals go. Tables next to each other. Waiters saluting clients with a non-chalance of old friends. This kind of place.

We were given a table in the middle of the room and soon enough a couple was sat next to us.

She was beaming with elegance, her hair just out of a hairdresser’s. White blouse, dark skirt. Let’s call her Mathilde. He was dressed as if in a hurry. A hurry to see her, I thought. Let’s call him Henry. They both seemed to have been born in the middle of last century.

They ordered the plat du jour and wine. Henry immediately became chatty with the lady at the table next to them. He told her the story of his life in 5 minutes: he is retired, daughter lives in another country, he and the lady having lunch with him is not his wife and they just “see each other”. He would be good on Twitter, I thought, with such a talent for conciseness.

The lady at the next table offered them her unfinished bottle of wine. I also wanted to offer something, in exchange for more stories. I offered them our untouched basket of bread. They accepted it with the joy of 5 year olds on Christmas eve.

As we switched our attention to our plates, their dialogue unfolded:

– Oh, darling, your back hurts again?, Henry asked with a compassion level 100, as she tried to find a comfortable posture in her chair.

– Oh, it’s fine, Mathilde tried to reassure him.

– Well, you know the remedy. You come to my place. You undress. I give you a massage on your back, his hands demonstrating circular movements, as if around her delicate shoulders.

Mathilde blushed and directed his blue eyes with her green eyes to my daughter, as if saying: « Shsh, there are kids around ». Henry’s blue eyes responded: “Well, sooner or later, she will find out. What’s there to hide?!”

– Well, you felt good after our last time…, his sweet smile enveloping her.

We left the place with the feeling of having watched a good movie from the 50s. Their illuminated faces – a lovely memory of an autumn love story. Ageless. Priceless.

P.S. I remembered this story in the times of this pandemic… I truly hope they are well and their love continues to brighten their days.

May9

Gaming parenting

Posted on by
Standard

– Let’s go for a walk.

– Mom, it’s 2020! Who does this anymore?!

What we did instead was to play and hang out in Adopt me.

I played the baby and Sofia played the mom. A very good mom to a very spoiled brat. My personality online could be quite opposite to the one in real life. I wonder what Freud would say about it… Not that I care.

I chose my outfit – urban romantic glamour, in case you need to know. I decorated my room for a budget of 100 Gamedollars.

We had ice cream and pizza with Ramsay – in this precise order. Oh, Heaven!

We spent time on the playground and by the camp fire. I only had 50 gamedollars on my game account and I spent the time of my life. Because it was time spent with my treasure.

Kids grow. So do parents. When was the last time you played with your kid?

Apr4

Teleworking week 3: view from home

Posted on by
Standard

While teleworking, I discovered that routine is queen. Yet, I remember that it is a constitutional monarchy. Dancing and crying and hugging and feeling sad are not under her rule. I can do any or all of that, if I feel like. No permission from the queen-routine required.

At the first walk-around-the-block since this started: « Mom, I have an impression I am walking with a toddler…». I was beyond myself from the sun and air and river view. Never in my life the view of a swimming water rat excited me to levels I never knew. I promise, my child, I’ll grow swiftly back into your mom.

As we cannot go and greet the spring, the way we used to, we turn to art. Thank you Conny Famm for your “State of soul”.

My shopping patterns changed. I cancelled orders. That’s a first for me. Instead, I redirected the money to a local initiative of chefs cooking for hospitals’ staff in the region – Des repas pour les anges gardiens. And in my home country through Diaconia http://www.diaconia.md.

The fight for internal resources – the one and only laptop in the house – ended with a gentlemen agreement.

I “went” to a ballet performance. « LAC » by Jean-Christophe Maillot at Monte Carlo Opera, courtesy of Monaco plus.

I seriously upgraded my emoji use skills. From novice to intermediate. I am still very far from the emoji-master in my house. I’ve got something to aspire to.

We welcomed a new precious member into our family and thank him for reminding us of the gift of life. We wish him a happy and long life! And we promise to be more conscious of what we do to mother Earth and how we treat each other.

May27

To mother. To all mothers

Posted on by
Standard

ddef8f5f5acf2cfbcca081d7147d25dd--mommy-quotes-mother-quotes“Mother is a verb. It is something you do. Not who you are”: it made me think of all those who mothered me.

My hubby who got me water when I collapsed from dehydration.

My kid who places her hand on my forehead to check whether I have fever.

My baker, who slides into my bag a little sweet surprise.

My swimming trainer who helped me overcome a childhood fear with just two words: “trust me”.

My cat waiting for me by the door to come back from my first trip abroad twenty years ago… His mothering ended at that, as stealing my breakfast remained his favourite game 🙂

Here is to all beings who mother each day, with gentle gestures, words of kindness and touches of love.

I’ll go now and mother someone.

Happy mothers day!

May24

Pity and motherhood: do they bond?

Posted on by
Standard

I have written on a number of occasions about mothers vulnerability and my own motherhood journey. E.g. https://lovevonbeautyvonlove.wordpress.com/2013/01/31/working-mothers/

I am child-centered parent and I believe this perspective enables an optimum anchoring into my livelihood. Motherhood, and parenthood for that matter, is not only about us. It’s also about that little human being that has questions, doubts, challenges, ups and downs, as many as we do, or even more sometimes.
I believe in sharing experience in a non-judgemental environment. What sadenns me is when it becomes a mere publicity tool for business interests, even if hidden under a noble “healing” promise, which comes with more side effects than health benefits. Or, what’s even worse, usng vulnerabilities for promoting interests of a particular group with clear net gains. Here is one example of what I mean: “Throwing a new mom pity party” by Kate Rope http://www.huffingtonpost.com/kate-rope/throwing-a-new-mom-pity-party_b_5022680.html

When things are tough, going extreme is the least helpful approach. Been there. Done that. It made me search for a middle way between “sickeningly hard” and ” constantly cheeriful”. The door to this path had two keys. One was to look at it through my inner child eyes retrospectively. The second key was to look at my motherhood through my own child’s big eyes.

My childhood was harsh, shadowed by meds my mother’s doctors prescribed, out of best intentions probably, with the knowledge and abilities they had at that time. What they missed was that meds effects went beyound her body and mind, spreading into my mind. I know now why people call me tough.
My child will become a parent one day. Would I like her to feel guilty because of my doctor’ s choice to prescribe heavy medication? Would calling my life with “a wife, kids and a house “the full catastrophe”” (quote from Kate Rope) help her grow into a happy, balanced, generous adult? My answer is No.
This perspective brought a doctor into my life who, when prescribing remedies for me, asks about my relationship with my child, and similarly, when prescribing remedies for my child, asks about her relationship with us, her parents.
What I try to always remember is that we, adults, make choices and these choices impact our kids lives to levels we may not even suspect. I choose not to bond with pity on my parenthood path. I choose to bond with empathy and love.

Jan31

Working mothers

Posted on by
Standard

After having watched the movie „I don’t know how she does it” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GSi3LdUrq18 (trailer), on an evening meant to be dull, I was appalled by the shallow view this movie shared.

I had today in front of me a working and breastfeeding mother of a 6 month old. A colleague who drove 250 km to the meetings location in the morning and returned back home in the evening. She did that for three days in a row. She looked dismantled. She worked hard to make a ‘I have it all under control” impression. Her eyes were telling a different story.78773642

I’ve done that. I’ve been in her shoes. In working mothers shoes. “I’ve got it all under control’ was my mask for 2 years. I breastfed at day and at night, I divorced sleep, I worked hard running back and forth to breastfeed, I did conference calls with my baby on my lap, I studied for my second post-graduate degree… My free time was all for my baby and her needs. I had two-minute express showers. I rejoiced when I managed to wax a leg – preferably mine. I put my relationship with my husband on hold. All I read were reports for work and books on babies. I have implanted myself into an emotionally sterile environment.

I had no time to connect with my self and allow myself to feel what I felt. When an additional demand for my time came, I screamed out loud “ cant’ YOU see I am collapsing!?!”. I came to realize  that it was ME who did not want to see the signs my body and soul were posting.

At the hospital, they prepare you for the “do part” of motherhood: how to change diapers, how to bath the baby, how to breastfeed, how to feed you baby… They do not prepare you for the ‘feel part”. What is often forgotten/ignored is the emotional world a mother enters into. It is a world of an extreme joy and superiour excitement. It can be quite overwhelming, at the very same time. It has also scientific explanations: the rise and fall of an entire army of hormones. And you have no control over that. And you do not need to.129301984

The lesson I learned from this experience is that it is fundamental to allow yourself to embrace, accept and acknowledge your emotions. If you want to cry, cry. If you want to laugh, laugh. If you want to shout, shout. If you need a hug, ask for one. Family, friends, support groups, which you find emotionally safe, are one strategy. You may want to keep a diary to pencil your thoughts, feelings, desires. You may want to try meditation when you can spare a minute just for yourself. Yoga or karate classes may work for you. Or maybe painting may fit best your needs to express what you feel. Or just paint your nails in different colours for a rainbow effect!  Anything that helps un-bottling your emotions is welcome. And, do it early in motherhood, even if you are challenged time-wise. With lots of love!