Lesson Nine: ‘Patience and Creativity’
Matilda’s new favourite past time is to make castles. To build them here….to build them there…to build them everywhere!
This means finding all the blankets and cushions in sight and fashioning them into some type of cavern. She begins her task by busily dragging every toy from around the house towards the construction site. She fossicks about picking up toys, blanets, cushions, shoes, jewellery. until every crevice and crack of the castle is blocked with anything from Dora figurines, teddies and hair ties as mortar for the space.
I am patient. I watch her pulling toys from her room out to the lounge.
I watch her pulling cushions and blocks from the lounge down the hall to her room.
Once, she even blocked our hall with a construction that was mainly scaffolded from a hat box and a stool…..it was hard to get to the bathroom or bedroom that night as every movement of a tutu or shoe in the way was ‘destroying her castle’!
I watch her and marvel at her creativity and ponder her future career choices, possibly in Architecture. I don’t mind the mess, I enjoy the process…and I sit and admire. Although I know that later when she goes to bed, we will have a big task ahead as we dismantle the structure and unpack the clutter remaining.
I allow her this indulgence as she is continuously confronted with my complicated health problems, which often means we spend a lot of time at home. I worry about the effects of having an ill Mum on such a vivacious child – I don’t want to deflate her happiness.
Most of the time I get by with heat packs and rest, and going to bed early. Although, when I have a flare up of pain or other intrusive symptoms, I cannot just take myself to the closest emergency. My history is so convoluted that I need to wait to see my specialists in a hospital almost an hour away, who will need to formulate a new plan. That is the best, although often painful approach.
A few weekends ago I had a bad episode of chronic pain. I should have gone to hospital, but the thought of waiting eight hours to be seen and ‘wasting’ that time away from my girls, when I can just wait to see my doctors and have a clear plan organized with an admittance planned meant I suffered at home with the pain relief on hand. Patiently.
Sometimes my determination to wait it out, means that I am often not the easiest person to live with and can be a bit short with my hubby, and easily overwhelmed.
Being patient as you watch your house being converted into a castle helps me to be patient in other areas of my life.
Although this past month, I just couldn’t wait it out any longer and I needed to take myself off to emergency. There was a plan outlined for the following friday but I had an acute problem arise over the weekend and by wednesday I was a walking zombie barely managing to speak or sit down.
Having children means also accepting when you can no longer be the Mum or wife you want to be. It sometimes means taking yourself out of the picture to get some rest and recover – rather than drag everyone into your web of pain and tears.
Knowing that my girls are so well looked after by my Mum and my darling hubby when I’m sick helps me to give into that decision much easier, but I feel that I am less a person when I have to admit defeat to pain, and voluntarily take myself away from them. I feel such a useless Mum and wife, but this is who I am as a result of the ravages on my body by having my beautiful children.
Having castles in your house shows you the beautiful potential of empty baskets and boxes as they can bear the weight of your castle. Being stuck indoors doesn’t become boring, but rather a way to redo our play area to make it ‘cosy and rosy’ for ‘bubba and Mama’. I have no idea where Matilda picked up this expression, but she loves using it, and puts on a bit of a Yorkshire accent when she does. I don’t know if the voice is an affectation picked up by my (Yorkshire) grandparents, or our Yorkshire cousins who we infrequently skype and stayed with for a few weeks last year. Then again, it could have emerged from something more meaningless via the television through ‘Peppa Pig or ‘Little Princess’ – adored shows in our house.
I am beginning to think that I am writing less about lessons for my girls but rather lessons from them. Matilda sometimes seems three going on fifteen with the kindness and patience she shows towards us. Then there will suddenly be the tornado of a three year old tantrum. At other times, she is my little baby who cuddles into my arms with her ‘num’ (dummy) and ‘Percy’ (Miffy comforter) and falls asleep against my head. I cradle her and kiss her on my favourite part of her which is that little chubby, delicate, soft bit of skin under her neck….and I breathe her in.
As a girl, I used to stretch out on my trampoline and search the clouds for castles in the sky…now I watch my girls building theirs and feel a love in my soul I never knew possible.