Accepting acceptance

For someone who rushes everywhere at warp speed – I’ve even been known to eat my breakfast and clean my teeth at the same time - I realised recently I’m actually a bit slow. Daisy starts school next year but it’s somehow taken me 4 years and 30 days to really come to terms with the fact that I’ve become a mum. Like I said, a bit slow.

Despite my kaleidoscope of colour coded charts, my litany of lists, and my plethora of plans, I actually didn’t see the wood for the trees – or to be more specific, the news for the nappies. I’m a mum. A walking, talking, baking, cooking, smiling, yelling, singing, driving, bum wiping, work-at-home mum. I fought a good fight, but I finally surrender… and of course, wonder why I bothered to fight at all.

One of my favourite authors, Alice Walker, wrote a disturbing but incredible book called Possessing the Secret of Joy. All the way through the story, the main character ponders the assertion that black people possess the secret of joy. At the end of the book, in heart-stopping drama, she is finally given the answer. Resistance is the secret of joy. And maybe subconsciously I adopted that because I did a pretty good job of resisting my maternal mantel – and despite never being happier, never complained more.

But I realise now, for me at least, that my secret of joy is not resistance. My secret of joy is acceptance. I like this life. Accept it. I thrive in this life. Accept it. Damn it, I think I’m even good at it. Accept it.

And the reason all this has come into my thoughts was reading so many of my fellow mummy bloggers and the recent chat about why we write our blogs. I write mine to use my brain other than for calculating the salt content in Barney crisps; to capture moments in time because said brain is like a sieve; to remind myself in the future how I felt; to remind myself now how I feel. Because writing is like therapy… and like all good therapy it takes a while to work through the crap and see the smiling baby shining down at you all the time. So writing has helped me accept the change that children brought to me. And finally I write because I very much like my blogging mummy friends….. and accepting that I’m not the only one enjoying this gig – but struggling with the washing, cooking, cleaning, time suction and other ranting that we share with each other…. Among many other things.

So here is to acceptance. And accepting friendship in cyberspace. In particular I’d like to thank a few fellow fighters who have helped me work through the therapy!

Hot Cross Mum
Sleep is for the weak
Who’s the mummy
Musings in Mayhem
Re-writing motherhood