I Became A First time Mum in my Forties

As you can guess from the title of my blog, I am a forty something first time mum.  I’m actually an Irish Mammy albeit a modern Irish mammy and not the kind that Brendan O Carroll’s portrays in his series, Mrs Browns Boys.  That is something I can only aspire to!

Here in Ireland  'Mammy' or ''Ma are terms we use most frequently but 'Mum', 'Mom' 'mummy'  are all acceptable too.  I don’t mind what I’m called as long as it’s  not ‘geriatric  Mum’ which is a term I have heard a few times since I had my child!. I’ve also been told that I am, what is referred to in medical speak an ‘ Elderly Primigravida’ a woman who has a child for the first time over the age of 35.  I thought ‘elderly’ meant you were well past middle age and approaching your twilight years.  Apparently this is not the case for people like me!

I decided to write this blog back in 2010 to reach out to other older first time mums and to indulge my love of writing which I have always found therapeutic.

It can be a lonely business being a forty something first time mum. When your child is a toddler and not at preschool, you don’t meet many other mums.  Many of my friends had much older children and were at a different stage of parenthood than I was. At a mother and toddler group that I had reluctantly ventured in to for some company, someone kindly pointed this out to me. When the group facilitator asked me if I was my two year old son's mother or 'nana' (grandmother),I vividly remember all eyes turning to look at me.

I can recall clearly how my spirits dropped and I realised that I was at least ten years older than the other mothers there.  I had thought that I looked young for my forty four years but the very posing of that question from the facilitator, and the youth of the other mothers dashed my illusions. My little boy didn’t seem to want to join in with the group activities (how's that for solidarity) and in light of how I then felt, I took it as a sign not to return. I knew that being part of a group that looked upon me as the oldie wouldn’t help with my increasing loneliness.

You may wonder, if I was so worried about being an older mum, why I left it so late. There were many reasons, mostly to do with insecurities and wrong perspective on life. I did not want to be poor, trapped and miserable as had happened to many women of my mothers generation, and also to some of my peers. And so, I spent my twenties and thirties in a partying haze, pushing kids to the very bottom of my list.

I married at the age of 34 and I still wasn't that interested in having children. My husband didn’t seem to mind and even said that he thought we were too immature to have children. We both had decent full time jobs and enjoyed going away, drinking and going out for meals. I didn't believe in the biological clock or that  it would ever tick for me. 

How wrong I was! When I suddenly started to take a big interest in my nieces and nephews, everyone was surprised.  Although I loved them, I really hadn’t connected with them that much up until I hit my late thirties. My brothers had never asked me to babysit much and everyone said I preferred animals to kids. I guess, in hindsight, it would have seemed that way, but deep down I think I was just trying to avoid the whole issue. I had so many issues around childbirth and motherhood; it pains me to think of it now.

I couldn't bear to hear about pregnancies or see childbirth scenes on the television. I felt it was a humiliating and degrading experience for the woman and that, as usual, the man got off scot free. So, with an attitude like this, it really scared me when I started to ogle babies in their prams, and wonder what it would be like to have a child of my own!  What was happening to me? Had I been wrong about the biological clock after all?

I really started to feel I wanted and needed a child and my husband felt the same. We tried, but unfortunately nothing happened for a long time. Then I had my first miscarriage. I didn't even realise that was what it was at the time. I was basically ignorant when it came to pregnancy knowledge, having pushed the subject away for so long.

Time went on and I hit the age of forty. I thought I should forget about the whole idea. By that stage I felt that it was probably my own fault that I could not conceive. I had spent the best part of 38 years saying I did not want children. Now it seemed as if my body was responding in kind. I felt as if I had willed it into not wanting them and it was just complying with my wishes. I remember someone saying to me at that time, that since I was forty, I might as well face the fact I would never have kids. I was sad but decided to get on with life and not think about it anymore.  I had succeeded in pushing the idea out of my life before so I would just do it again.

Parenthood is not the path for everyone and it is not in everyone's life journey. I thought that was probably the case with me. I went part time in my day job and set up my own dog walking and pet sitting business and felt, for the most part content with my life.

Then, it happened!  I was pregnant!  I was 41 years of age and pregnant!  I was over three months into it and I hadn’t realised. One day I was out driving and the smell of petrol fumes made me feel nauseous. I had lost track of my cycle because I had put the whole idea out of my mind and I had not felt sick before and had no other symptoms.in fact, I felt terrific, with boundless energy. When the test came up positive, I did two more tests just to be sure and the result was the same. Positive. Positive. Positive!

When I shared my news, there were different reactions.  I had thought everyone would be positive and happy but this wasn’t always the case.  One urged me to think long and hard about it and another suggested I have all manner of tests done because of my age. I went for some private counselling just to be sure it was something both of us could handle. We then decided that we would forego the tests and just accept whatever and whoever was sent to us. I just knew then, that even if those tests had showed up any abnormalities we were ready for it. Thankfully, all was perfect and in November 2007 our beautiful son was born. It really was the best day of my life! Now I knew what people meant when they said that.  In past times I had often secretly sneered when I heard people say that it was their happiest time ever.

If I had known before what I found out that day and what I know now, I would have tried to have children a lot earlier. I realise now that even if it did cause me to be trapped, that having a child is a wonderful, beautiful blessing. In fact, parenthood has not trapped or frightened me in any way. So far, it is a bonus and an enhancement to my life and I think I can speak for my husband there too.

Since then, I have wanted another child really badly. I had and still have a longing for that. I also wanted it for my little son. I would like him to have a sibling so that he has company at home.  I would like him to have a sibling so having older parents won't be a burden to him in later life. I would like him to have a sibling for so many reasons.

We tried to do that for him but sadly I had miscarriages at age 43 and 44. I was so excited that I made plans and carried on even though I was warned by the doctor about the statistics of miscarriage in women my age. I was devastated with the realisation that as time went on, the chances were less and less.  And now, here I am, aged almost 48 and with one precious child, a six year old most appreciated son.

We are so so so thankful for him and I am so grateful my body clock ticked loudly and woke me up before it really was too late.  My one and only regret is that I could not give my precious boy a sibling because of the choices I made in life. Choices I made because I was afraid, afraid of being trapped, afraid of not being good enough to do a good job, afraid of so many things that never transpired.

I used to worry that by being older parents, we were doing our son an injustice. I used to worry that we be might get sick and old before he was fully ready to make his own way in the world. Someone had once said to me that they thought I was either brave or really selfish in having a child in my forties. 

Then my mother said something that really hit home.  She said that you don't have to be old to die. I realised then that no matter what age we are, there are no guarantees in life. Some people die young, some people die old and some people live longer than even their own children. I am doing my best to keep fit and healthy for as long as possible.  I rarely drink now, I practice yoga, I juice regularly adding much needed fruit and veg to my diet and I keep up to date with what the younger parents are into. I have become an improved version of myself because of my child and I aim to keep that up.

In my wildest dreams, I never thought I would become a forty something first timemum but I did and I am.

Posted by Claire at 5:41 AM 

12 comments:

Sarah Butland said...

Bravo!!! What a compelling and heart-warming piece. It's from the heart, to other mom's and mom's to be at any age. Things happen when it's best for them to happen. You weren't ready for your child before 41 and that's perfectly ok. I know that my husband and I were completely ready for whatever our baby threw at us (literally and figuratively) when we had him, before we did we were selfish and perfectly happy as a couple which was ok too. I imagine you and your husband were the same way. To parenting. And, by the way, don't have another for the sake of a sibling, another will happen if you're all ready for him/her.

May 1, 2010 11:51 AM 

SuileGlasa said...

Thanks for the post Sarah. We really would love another child and we are ready and waiting. It would be great for my son as well. However, I think at 44 it may be too late. But then again, look at Cherie Blair the ex British Prime Ministers wife. She was 45. There are many examples so who knows! Watch this space.. Or should I say, watch this blog!!

May 1, 2010 1:39 PM 

lizm8906 said...

It's never too late! Some women of 65 are having them - although know I couldn't - feel too old now sometimes and am also a 40 something Mum of young girls although did get in having them just before 40... Very interesting Blog... I look forward to seeing more posts. x

May 2, 2010 5:34 AM 

SuileGlasa said...

As you said yourself Liz, it's never too late! If it's meant to happen, it will.

May 4, 2010 5:44 AM 

berniegloster said...

Great and so honest and funny.Things happen for a reason I lost three babies before I had my son I thought I'd have no more and 8 years at nearly 39 without I had my daughter a total surprise.I still remember when my son visited me in hospital and asked me was I going to dye my hair still because he was afraid they may think I was her granny not her mum(out of the mouth of babes)Well at 52 I still dye my hair and I have two georgeous kids (my son of 22 would'nt like me calling him a kid)both a fantastic surprise

May 6, 2010 11:31 AM 

veronahanlon said...

Such a lovely featue - it's funny to think that as women (who want it all), we are probably thinking the same things!

May 7, 2010 7:21 AM 

Loraine said...

Hi Neighbour - glad to have read your blog - it's an absolutely amazing experience to be a Mom and I am so glad you went for it - I too experienced loss having had two miscarriages after my daughter and thought I would never have another - but some medical intervention and the wonderful drug "lovenox" (I have a blood disorder that causes me to develop clots while pregnant) - and my beautiful son was born a year and three months ago. Please take each day as it comes - God will send to you a blessing if it is right for your family - in the meantime, enjoy your son every minute (even if he gets into your makeup or draws on your walls!)... Love Lo X

May 19, 2010 5:09 PM 

Claire said...

Thanks Lo!

May 27, 2010 9:04 AM 

Lorna said...

Delighted to find your blog. I had my kids at age 33 and 35 and planned to have another 2 by the time I was 40. 3 miscarriages later (had no probs with first 2) and lots of infertility treatment and aged 41 this month, we are going to adopt. But I so empathise with your feelings re not being maternal, even when I was pregnant with my first, I was wondering how on earth I could breastfeed and bond with this thing that would cry, smell and not ever sleep. Ok, he never slept but he was a gorgeous baby and I ended up breast feeding him till he was 2 so I sort of turned into an earth mother - far cry from the woman who was going to thrust him into the creche at 8 weeks and head back to work! I hope you have another baby - best of luck. Personally I think the later women leave having their kids, the more they enjoy them

July 13, 2010 11:26 AM 

Danka said...

Congrats on your baby! Loved your story! I have few friends who don't want kids or are not ready for them and my heart cries out but unfortunately they would never understand "us" (moms) what it means to see smile of your baby!

July 14, 2010 4:40 AM 

Claire said...

You are so right Danka. I am so glad I found out before it was too late!

July 20, 2010 11:44 AM 

Claire said...

Lorna, I love your story. I think it's great to adopt also. The very best of luck with it.

What Lessons Did You Learn in 2013?

What lessons did the year 2013 bring for me?

I've been thinking hard about this since the new year began and it's only now that I can put it  into words. It's said that you cannot change anyone else and at some level, most of us know that it is true. Still, it doesn't stop many of us from trying to change others to what we want them to be.   We may do it with our partners, our children and even our parents. Heck, even our pets are cajoled and scolded until they are trained to how we think they should be!

I think that when we feel the need to change someone, it's coming from our deepest insecure fearful selves. We are  trying to change the things about them that scare us because they are actually a reflection of things we ourselves might need to change. They are things that make us feel unsafe and different.  It may also be that we worry what others think and this brings insecurities to the fore. We become stressed and fearful because we may not have what we perceive as the same secure life as other people.  We forget that life itself is insecure. and we forget that we are not all the same. After all, it feels safer to be part of a group, doesn't it? Even if we forget that within that group there may be someone who doesn't entirely fit the mould.

I see that we are one in a human sense concerning the things we actually need like food and love, but we also have different personalities and desires.  Therefore one size does not fit all and we do not have to conform in the way we sometimes allow ourselves to feel we should. We set ourselves up for stress and upset by our constant wanting to change others to do things the way we think  they should be done and be the way we want them to be. While I have always intrinsically known this, now I have proved this truth to myself.

I have been experimenting on and off with the path of least resistance, trying to only be motivated by love. When I have used it, life has been peaceful but when I have reverted to my usual railing against the way things are,all hell breaks lose. Currently, I am biting my tongue, avoiding confrontation, avoiding giving my negative opinions and refusing to get riled up by jokes or comments. I am also pausing and responding mindfully rather than mindlessly reacting and already it's working better for me than the constant railing against people or conditions. I had a huge opportunity to put all this into practice just yesterday and it was nice to come away feeling positive and calm. 

When I mentioned all this to someone just this morning, they suggested that behaving like this was a 'cop out' and people acting this way were allowing themselves to be doormats. I can see what they are trying to say but I feel that not accepting what is and constantly railing against it is even more damaging. For me it is damaging to my nerves, my emotions, my physical being and my soul. Changing my own behaviours rather than constantly fighting against others,is a better path, at least it is for me. I am not saying that we should accept life the way it is and that's that. I am saying that we could accept it for what it is and see it as a work in progress, always growing and improving things as we go. We could just do it in a quieter, calmer and hopefully more effective way. I see it as a letting go of the behaviours and attitudes that don't serve me. I see that only a change and shift within myself can bring about a lasting change to dump the turmoil.

So far, following this path of least resistance, while also calmy speaking my needs, while not reacting to barbs and comments, is bringing different reactions from other people. In a way, some of the changes I originally wanted to force are coming about simply by changing or shifting something within myself.

One of the lessons that I finally learned as 2013 came to a close was that trying to change other people is trying to control them. I spent two whole days reflecting on this truth at every given moment and realised that it really is true that the only person we can change is ourselves.

So for 2014, I hope to have learned enough that I can speak calmy my needs as a mother, wife, daughter, sister and do it from a calm place. I will not volunteer too much information, let others manipulate me or try to do it to them, not feel that I have to constantly explain myself to others and strive to be quietly effective in the things I set out to do .

I had an upsetting end to the year 2013 and the beginning of 2014 but it's served to finally teach me a few things. It is said that the same things will keep happening to you over and over until you finally learn the lesson! Aint that the truth!

What have you learned in 2013?
x

The Stare

I'm standing by the living room door. He's playing happily with his toys. He asks why I am staring at him. I only realise I'm doing it when he asks the question.  He asks me to stop because he doesn't like it. I think how my mother often does the same to me.

I don't like when she does it either. I worry it makes her wistful, nostalgic or scared in some way. I also feel she may be criticising things about me. She's eighty and she's my mother and I want her to stay strong. She's my mother. Even though I'm grown I need her to be the Mother in my life still.

But I'm a mother now myself and there's no getting away from the fact that I do that staring thing too.  When I do it, my thoughts travel. They travel to the future and they travel to the past. Probably in just the same way as my mother's thoughts do. When I lived abroad for a time, my flat mate said I worried too much about what my mother thought. I still do.

I'm thinking as I stare, of what a magical miracle he is. I'm hoping that he's not lonely  and I'm wishing that I could  have given him a sibling.  I can only try to keep him close to his cousins and friends as compensation for that. I think I'm doing ok.  We don't see his cousins all the time but he knows each and every one of them. We talk about each of them and look at photographs. That's more than I did, growing up. But I had four brothers and that's the difference.

I'm hoping for the future that he will be well adjusted even though I've never followed any child rearing books. Oh yes, I've googled stuff but exploring theories and then practicing them are two very different things. I tend to have a more flexible, play it by ear approach. When the midwives were forcing the breastfeeding policy on to me, I stopped as soon as we got home.  Some may think thats selfish but I was so horrified by that whole experience of people and things pulling and pushing at me, I couldn't bond with my baby.  As far as I was concerned, once he got the Colostrom, that was it. I felt it was better for him to have a functioning mother, than one who was weeping all the time because she felt pressured into breastfeeding him.    It doesn't seem to have physically harmed him. He's rarely sick and has only ever vomited three or four times in his six years of life. 

When others were force feeding their kids at three months or six months because the book had told them to, I knew he wasn't ready. He was seven months when he went onto solids and he had no problems at all. Like me, he is a late bloomer. He didn't walk or get his first tooth until fifteen months old. I didn't worry though. I knew he would do it in his own time. He was a great sleeper. We were lucky. No pacing the floor throughout the night and no bleary heads in the mornings.

When I stare, although I hope I have done some things right, I feel the guilt of the times I haven't been the mother I  aim to be. The times I've lost my temper, lost my patience and almost lost my mind. The time he was barely two years old and he caught his finger in the hinge of the kitchen door. He'd been clinging  to my leg and I swung the door closed not realising his hand was there. A trip to the hospital in an ambulance. An operation to sew his fingertip back on. His vulnerability as he was wheeled back to me unconscious.  The feeling that I had put him there. His Dad had been away on business. If hasn't been for my fantastic sister in law and next door neighbours, I would have felt like the worst mother in the world.

His behaviour isn't always all it could be but he's only just turned Six. I know he's pushing boundaries etc. I don't need the books to tell me that. Its listening to other people that makes me worry about his behaviour but its also listening to other people that makes me stop. We've all pushed the boundaries at certain points in our lives and come out the other side.  He's strong willed and I understand that now and can change my own behaviour accordingly.  I'm hoping that the boundaries we do put in place will be just what he needs.

 I'm hoping for the future that I haven't transferred my over-sensitivity to him, that my relationship with his father, my husband won't impact negatively on him. We're doing our best with what we ourselves learned from our own parents .Sometimes it's effortless but more often than not it's hard work. But that's okay. Life is a lifelong learning process as I prove everyday.

Everything about him is magical, the fact that he's part me and part his Dad. I hope he gets his Dad's brains. And not my tendency to veer away from the logical and drive myself crazy looking for the answer to life's mysteries.

How can I explain all this to him, the miracle of becoming his mother in my forties? How can I explainThe reasons why I often stare at him? How can I tell him how lucky we are that he is in this world at all? Will he hate me if and when he finds out that at one time I thought I didn't want kids because I was scared to embrace motherhood and new life. 

He once asked me if I was glad he picked me as his mother. I didn't understand what he meant. Then he told me that when he was up in heaven, before he was born, he picked me. He says he saw me putting out the bins and he looked down and told Holy God that he wanted THAT Mammy and THAT Daddy.  He said he told my father, his Grandad Pat, who he never actually met, that he wanted him to fly him down and magic him into that lady's tummy! He says Grandad Pats job in heaven is to fly babies down into the tummies of the mothers they pick! I love his imagination and I love his take on things. And Yes! I can safely say that I'm very glad he picked me.

There will be a time when my own mother is no longer around. When that time inevitably comes, I will be more than a mother.  I will be THE  mother in mine and my sons life. While I have my own mother I still  feel mothered and protected, as if I havent fully grown into the idea I'm a mother myself. I just hope that when it happens, I can do half as good a job as her, stare or no stare.

My father used to call her stare 'the look' but 'the look' was reserved for him and that's a whole different story!

I know now I've been unfair when I've berated my mother for staring at me. Rather than think it might possibly be a negative thing, as I have often done, I want my son to know that the 'stare' just means I love him more than I can say.

Can Love Of Work Become Work Of Love?

The other day my little boy came home from school and asked me why I didn't work. He said a boy at school had asked him what I worked at and he had told them 'nothing'!

I explained to him that I don't work outside the home at the current time but that I do work every day. I may be on a career break from my job but that didn't mean that I was doing nothing. I told him that cooking, cleaning, taking care of him, his Dad, his Granny and our cats all qualifies as work.  He looked so sad and turned away from me. I had to coax him to tell me why my answer had upset him so.

It transpires that he was disappointed to find that I thought of looking after him as being work.  I think he has a point. I love looking after him and my family so maybe I should 't be thinking of what I do for them in this way.  After all if you are doing something you love, can it be classified as work?  I think it was Confucius who first realised this thousands of years ago. And here I am, having to be reminded of this by my five year old (sorry, five and three quarters!) son.

'Speaking' of work, I then asked him if he had any thoughts of what he would like to work at when he is a grown up.He used to say he wanted to be a doctor so he could fix people and make them better. Indeed, any time we had a doctor visit, he insisted on going all dressed up in his doctors outfit, carrying his bag of equipment. Apparently he no longer wants to be a doctor or a vet as he heard that in training you have to look at dead bodies and brains and things and anyway he wouldn't like to have to to blood tests!

The other thing that he often talked about being was a bin man.  That idea is also out the window as he thinks it would be too hard to be working out in rain and snow and sun.

He put on his thinking face and then said he had a great idea.  He wouldn't work at all, he would do something he loves too and still make money.  When I asked him what the idea was, I could hardly contain my giggles.  He said he will just keep doing runs and walks and a bit of playing and get people to sponsor him.  He would go round all the neighbours and relatives and get them to sponsor him to do these things all the time. Then he would be doing something he loves and make money too. The poor child was so so disappointed when I explained to him, that people usually got sponsored to donate the money to charity and that he would have to give it all away.

Whatever happens in his future, I sincerely hope that he will have a love for whatever 'work' he does and so the work will become the work of love.

What about you? Do you love your work, whatever it may be?

Go For It! Don't Wait A Moment Longer!

Go For It!  Don't wait!

A man would do nothing if he waited until he could do it so well that no one could find fault. John Henry Newman

I started this blog in May 2010 when I was feeling a little lonely. I started this blog when I felt I wanted to reach out to others in the same position as me.  I also started this blog to indulge my love of writing.

When I put the blog out there, a friend commented that she thought I was brave to do it. She  felt that she would not be able to write well enough to share her experiences with the world.  I knew exactly what she meant. I felt just the same. However, I remembered John Henry Newman's quote above and decided I would go ahead with my plan. I love quotes and before sharing them regularly on my Facebook page, I collected them in a journal. These wise words have stayed with me and so, I decided, that even if my writing didn't appeal to everyone, I would forge ahead.

Naturally, as is the human condition, it is inevitable that some people will find fault.  However, I think that no matter what we choose to do in life there will always be people who support us and people who don't, people who agree with us and people who disagree.  That's just life and the way it is.  I know that now and I can accept that now.  But I didn't always feel this way. I didn't always 'know' this. Just one person finding fault would have sent me on a downward spiral.  A bad comment would have confirmed to me how terrible I really was.

As a forty something first time mum of a now five year old boy, I have done most things later in life than many of my peers.  I was in my thirties when I got married, late thirties when I learned to drive, thirty nine when I set up a small petminding business, almost forty when I learned to swim, forty one when I bought a house, forty four when I took up my yoga and blogging lifestyle and almost forty two when I became a parent!

I used to put things off through lack of confidence and a belief that I wouldn't be able to cope like other people. I used to worry that people would find fault with whatever I did.  I even put off motherhood through fear and lack of self esteem and self worth.  Luckily for me, I woke up and got on with all the above things before it really did get too late.

I learned that you cannot wait until you can do it so well that nobody could find fault. I learned that there will always be people like this and they should not hold the key to your happiness..  So I urge you, no matter what age you are, what stage of life you're at, what dream you hold dear, what you want to achieve, GO FOR IT and DON'T WAIT!

Happy Schooldays and Happy Halloween

Since I last posted here, my little boy's first day at school has come and gone.  That day filled me with delight and pride for the little 'big' boy that he has become but also with tears and nostalgia for the little 'baby' boy he no longer is.

On his first day, he got into his uniform reluctantly and held both our hands tightly as he entered the classroom with trepidation. He joined in with the other children at a round table adorned with crayons and playthings. Although he looked happy enough, it was such a wrench to leave him, that even my normally controlled husband had a tear in his eye!


We need not have worried ourselves in the least about him.  After his first day, he was bursting with excitement and really happy that one of his best friends and  a few from his preschool were in his class.When I took him to visit his Granny in his uniform, he was so proud of himself and so exuberant about it all.

I couldn't help but think back to my own first day, many moons ago (approximately 42!) and let me say, it was very very different. I didn't like the shirt and tie, the green checked duffle coat and the heavy schoolbag. I was terrified to be thrust into this noisy, crowded unfamiliar room with a bunch of strangers.  I wailed loudly when my mother left me.  I still remember sitting at my individual wooden desk with the inkwell and measurements on it,( inherited from the dark ages it seemed) and feeling so desolate and confused. To make matters even stranger, many of the teachers and staff were nuns and in those days, wore full regalia!  Nowadays, the children are seated in a circle together, given crayons and things to play with and gently introduced to their new world.  Most children have had some experience of preschool too, so it makes for an easier transition all round.  In my day, nobody but the privileged few had done this.

Now that Halloween is nearly upon us, the nightly sounds of bangers and fireworks going off is becoming a familiar sound.  I can't say that it is a time of year that I particularly enjoy, mainly for the reason that it's a scary time for the animals.  However, it is an exciting time for the children so I am begrudgingly throwing myself into things for the sake of my five year old son.  He dressed up as a ghost last year and as he has an imaginary friend in Casper the Ghost, this was very apt.  This year he is obsessed with Spiderman and will probably wear the costume his Granny Joan (my mother) got him.  We will go to a Halloween party on Monday and then he will go to visit his cousins for trick or treating on Halloween itself.

When I was an child, we didn't have fancy shop bought costumes but made our own out of black binliners and old sheets and blankets.  I used to wear a wig of my mothers that had survived from the sixties and I looked forward to wearing it each year. We then went around a few friends and neighbours in disguise chanting our mantra 'help the halloween party'.  As far as I know this was something we said here in Ireland when they were saying 'trick or treat' in other places. It was a phrase that guilted your neighbours into giving you lots of treats although the treats back then were much healthier.  We mainly received apples, oranges, bananas, coconuts and peanuts where nowadays they seem to get a lot of sugary things!

I would love to hear some of your memories of your first day at school and your childhood Halloween rituals so feel free to share!

Sisters or Friends? Who Do You Turn To?

The best thing about having a sister was that I always had a friend - Calie Rae Turner

For as long as I can remember, I have always wished for a  sister.  And never more so, as now that I am older.  I sometimes feel quite lonely even though I have a husband, child, brothers, mother and pets. When I was young I used to pretend that my best friend was my sister.  She didn't have to do that as she had two of her own.

Oh sure, I have some close friends but we are  not as involved in each others lives as we would be if we were related.  I feel that this is true in most cases, though, I accept, not all. I do have a friend who never got along with her sister growing up and that has never changed.

But as far as I can see, that type of thing usually reverses itself. Some of my friends, though their relationships with their sisters might have been competitive and fractured growing up, are now the closest people I know. They  have become closer as they have had families and grown older.  They support each other and they count on each other as the  person/people they can really rely on, apart from themselves.

Most of my friends had children before I did and although we always met from time to time and are still in touch, we drifted apart a little. I fear I am mostly responsible for this, through my own insecurities about not having children. These insecurities meant that I distanced myself rather more than I had intended to.

Then at the advanced age of almost forty two, I had my child, only to find that my friends were at a different stage of life. I imagine that I now feel how my friends who had children when I didn't, felt, when I seemed to show little interest. 

One of my good friends has three sisters and although they are all totally different personalities, they are completely there for each other.  She agrees that growing up they might have had fights but they also swapped clothes and had lots of great nights out together.  Now that they are older, with families of their own, they meet up at least once a week for brunch as well as at family get togethers. She is also delighted that their own children have that same closeness growing up together as they did.  I  don't think I am a jealous person but I admit that I sometimes feel envious when I see them all together. 

I have cousins who are sisters and I sometimes feel like an outsider when we meet. I know they would never want me to feel like that but it's there. They know all each others little secrets and foibles and can communicate with each other in ways that I cannot. I know twin sisters who are so close, I feel as if there is really something missing in my life, when I see them. When I recently asked one of them how she felt about her sister she said ' She is my right arm. She is my best friend. I could tell her anything, no matter how bad and know she would still love me. She is the one person I would trust completely with my kids if anything were to happen to me.  I would be lost without her. In short, she is the other half of me'.  

I have four brothers who have terrific partners and although I love them all and get on with them, I wouldn't say that we are exceptionally close.  Again, I feel it's more to do with my own past insecurities than with anything they do or do not do. I have two wonderful sister-in-laws but their lives are so busy, we don't get the time to get together much.

I feel that people who have close relationships with their sisters are very blessed. The same goes for people who feel that sisterly bond with their friends.


What I am wondering about you all out there is.....  who is it you turn to in times of need?  Your Sisters or your Friends?  Do you count your sisters as your best friends or indeed your friends as your sisters?