I have been a Mum for almost 6 years now and I am slowly coming out of those baby years. You will be 2 years old in 2 months. I was sorting through the last of your ‘baby’ clothes the other day. Why do you grow out of your clothes so quickly? And why does sorting through your now too-small clothes bring me so much grief? Every time. Some of them were your brothers and the memories of places and moments wrapped up in the threads of the cotton are almost too much to bear. How can I ever pass them on to someone else? These clothes are like little pieces of you and your brother. Your little bodies, that used to fit in these clothes, and now they are too big.

Memories of your baby-ness are starting to feel hazy and blurry and not in focus and like they happened in a dream. Details are lost and it’s a big colourful smush of maybe weeks or months pushed together to form that ‘period’ at the time. When you were ‘around’ a certain age. I couldn’t tell you what we ate for breakfast that day, or week, but I can probably remember how it felt to hold your little body at that point, how light you felt. And the sorts of things we would do regularly. Trips to the park, trips to the supermarket. (We of course were limited to the things we could do due to the a small fact of your first year of life was in a form of lockdown. We are making up for lost time now though!)

Why is it that memories can often feel like it may well have never happened at all. Was it definitely as I remember it? 

Everything in the present moment, right now, is so relentlessly REAL. It’s in my face constantly. Whereas the memories are something I’m always scrabbling around to hold, like slippery marbles rolling away from me on a wooden floor. Did it actually happen? How did I actually feel? What did I look like that day? What did we eat? How many times did I kiss you that day? 

Memories that are joyful and depressing in equal measure. Memories of exhaustion so deep I never thought I would get through the day without having to climb into bed. Fulfilling memories. But memories of a time in my life that has wreaked havoc on my mental health. A sort of anxiety inducing trip that sometimes emulates taking psychedelic drugs in the wrong state of mind. Stomping along pavements with the buggy hoping you’ll nod off soon. Knowing everything might feel easier as soon as you’re asleep. The frustration of refused naps and refused meals would leave me in tears. The lack of me time. Wanting the me time and immediately wanting you back when I got it. The feeling I had totally lost touch with who I was anymore, what I even wanted from life or enjoyed. But also knowing all I wanted was to be with you all of the time.

I became obsessed with proving I could be the best at this. That you would turn out this perfect little being. What even is that? I am so far from both of those things, most of the time. Despite my anxiety and neurosis of trying to ensure you are well balanced and happy, you have turned out to be all of these things, on your own without my needy interventions of constant fun, cuddles and kisses. Have I smothered you?

Today we went to hobbycraft and spent a small fortune on papermache eggs, ceramic bunnies, tissue paper, paints and kits to make homemade bonnets. I’d promised your brother we would make a really cool easter scene this year, the best one yet!! I will not go back on that promise, no matter how stressful this easter scene will be to create. But I’ll make sure its not stressful! I’ll MAKE SURE its fun and enriching and creative for you, it will be wonderful. 

I do wonder when I will ever just accept defeat or failure as an ok course of action. To just say, you know what my darlings, that might be a bit much for Mummy at the moment so we’ll just pair it back a bit. I never want to disappoint you though, I always want to please you and make you smile and make you feel happy and excited and make EVERY damn day of your exquisite and short lives so far THE BEST. But I know can’t. Because so much of life is out of my control.

I can’t even control what memories stay in focus for me and which ones will fade. And this beautiful face of yours that is so much YOU and your face at the moment, a face I love SO HARD and fiercely, will also soon change. And memories of you now will change and float away.

What will the next 6 years hold for us? 

#artifactmotherhood

Welcome to Artifact Motherhood. This is a collaboration of artists from around the world who have come together to share our stories of the joys and struggles of our journey. Through our writings and visual records we want to create memories that are more than photographs with dates written on the back. These are the artefacts we are leaving behind for our children and for generations to come.

Please check out the next artist in our blog circle, the wonderful and talented Jo Haycock and continue through all the artists until you get back to me.