Wednesday, 1 February 2012

A mother's dream

The first time I felt like I was a part of something greater than myself was when I had my first baby. That’s late I know, but most of my life before that was spent rejecting the people and places I was connected to.  My childhood was peppered with varying degrees of turbulence so that by the time I was old enough to be on my own, I shut most of the world out. My therapist and I think it was a defense mechanism. We discussed my years of phone screening, my preference for email or the written word over face-to-face, my reluctance to participate socially in family functions and concluded it was an appropriate reaction to sometimes very inappropriate circumstances.

I remember with too much clarity the stress of my childhood.

Lately my four-year-old has discovered that he is a part of something larger than himself. Just yesterday he ran into the house bursting with excitement and announced that he had a special surprise for his “whole family”. In his hands he held a Dixie cup with four pretzel sticks – the last of his snack from the after-school program. He’d saved these for us. He could barely contain himself so we followed suit. We feigned enormous delight at being thought of this way, bit into our pretzels as if they were generous hunks of decadent chocolate cake, shook our heads with disbelief at the kindness of the act.

I love that Deaglan will not remember with painstaking exactitude his childhood. I hope that he will think back on it fondly but that it will be a blur, one long continuous ride, filled with

Love not pain.
Joy and only minor loss.
Kindness and comfort.
Giving not taking.

And the feeling of home, always home.

Thank you my friends for your wonderful comments on my last post. I still feel a bit raw from   the boldness of my act - I mean who do I think I am posting so many pictures of myself for the world to see? And yet I received some wonderful messages from even my high school friends telling me it was okay, that they understood where I was coming from. And even the ladies at BlogHer ads gave me a nod. See up there to the right under the heading More from BlogHer - that's my post! Every few weeks they pick something and it increases my traffic, brings other bloggers to my site, shares my little stories with people from all over the world. 

Kind of a thrill for an oddball like me.


  1. Such a sweet post, it made me tear up!

    So cool that you've been picked by Blogher - I never have been - but my writing doesn't hold a candle to yours! :-)

  2. that is the most heart-warming story! you should be proud!

  3. And the fact that you want it and that you are working for it means he will have a wonderful childhood.

  4. Odd balls like you are the diamonds in the rough - the oh so coveted friends we all wish we had.

    I am still trying to figure out how you write about your tough childhood and yet it does not come off sounding like a "poor me" attitude or ever complaining. You do a beautiful job. I worry about that whenever I write about my past. I sort of feel like folks think I'm just complaining or garnishing sympathy for myself.

    Oh, and I bet those pretzel were the most delicious thing you've tasted to date because they were so meaningful.

  5. What a precious act by your big little man! And, who do you think you are? A phenomenal, beautiful woman, that's who!!! LOL

    Congrats on the BlogHer add!! Whoo Hoo! :)

  6. I tagged you in a meme today! feel free to participate or not. :-)

  7. Such a beautiful post. I love that he saved the pretzel sticks for you. He has a great heart and that is a reflection of you!

  8. Yay for accolades! :)
    What a precious story and a sweet, sweet boy!!

  9. Aw, that's very sweet. And in one of those lovely bits of synchronicty, I also mentioned a little thoughtfulness form my son that warmed my heart. And where are you by the way - did you not get my invitation to the hidden blog? If not, email me at and I'll re-send it.

  10. Oh my sweet! You and your husband are teaching him wonderful things! I love the sidewalk message too. :)

  11. your cup runith over...
    just remember that they need childhood to learn how to handle the bad as well as the good, loss as well as gain. once in adulthood the consiquences are more costly if they didn't learn strength of character while young.

  12. Home. Always Home.
    My childhood was very unhappy too. All I ever wanted for Amy, and still do, above all else, is that she can look back on the years at home with Stuart and me and see them as a happy part of her life.
    Kim, this makes me cry for you and what you missed-and what you have now been given. You are so truly deserving, my dear friend:)

  13. Yes, it's the overall feeling I remember about my childhood too, and it's warm and fuzzy and good.

    I love that he saved pretzels for you guys so much!

  14. Beautifully shared, Kim. The pretzel story is one of the sweetest things I have ever heard. Enjoy these times with your handsome boys. They are so lucky to have such a wonderful mom!


Thanks for your comment!