the code revisited.
Around this time last year, I published my most popular blog post to date on the mummacode (to read it head here) which I wrote during October Vac Swim swimming lessons (‘vacation swimming’ government-subsidised swimming lessons) whilst my hubby was away in Africa and during such time my little lad fractured his wrist (yes, it was a fun week).
I think about that scenario regularly to do this day, and was no more reminded of it then when I went to the same location with the same children for the same type of swimming lessons just 2 weeks ago. Let me say that a lot has changed in a year and the experience was altogether easier (that may have something to do with the fact hubby wasn’t away, and little lad didn’t have a broken arm and this mumma is now managing 3 children who are growing in independence), but ironically enough I had an equally impacting encounter with a complete stranger that is still resonating with me (there’s my key advice right there – if you want a parenting light bulb moment; enrol your children in holiday swimming lessons!)
This particular scenario played out on day 2 whilst we were all in the change rooms together and Miss 7 1/2 and Miss 5 1/2 were untangling themselves from wet bathers and attempting to get dressed in a confined corner amidst dozens of other little people and busy mummas, and Master 3 1/2 was entertaining himself with the soap dispenser (as he tends to in such circumstances).
“Wow, I don’t know how you’re doing that!” comes a a stranger’s voice next to me.
I look up, a little startled and cautious and say, “what exactly?”
“Dealing with those 3 like you are; are they all yours?”
I nod and do one of those eyebrow-raised, sheepish smiles.
My mind is then frantically replaying the past 10 minutes or so (what have I been saying and doing?), and I’m trying to ascertain if she is complimenting me or about to launch into a criticism or judgement.
“We only have one, and I’m tossing up all the time whether I can manage having another, and so often I think I can’t and then I look at someone like you and think I can.”
Gulp.
And what then went on was a conversation for a good few minutes about parenting and juggling, and capacity and challenge and a whole swag of other rather deep and meaningful things (all the while un-sticking wet bathers and hair, collecting swimming paraphernalia and supervising Master 3 1/2’s third trip to the toilet cubicle).
And the her final words to me before leaving the room were
“You’re my inspiration.”
Guulpppp.
And whilst I made my usual run of parenting mistakes for the rest of that day (week) and whilst I had a little internal party last week when I dropped my lasses off at school after 18 days of holidays, and whilst I’m no contender for parent of the year (I didn’t even make the short list) I feel blessed and grateful that just occasionally I can inspire people around me, and when strangers take the time to express it, one can wear that encouragement like a bright gold star long after the event.
This is what the mummacode is all about, and this is why the heck we need it.