Mothers and shopkeepers


I am watching myself. Truthfully, I do it more and more. Watching rather than bathing in the wreckage that my thoughts can create. I see myself drowning and can reach over and pull myself up.
One of the easiest things to slip into is “I am a bad mother.” A massive statement that can feed all manner of insecurities and future behaviours. I refuse to go there. I am not a bad mother. I am a good mother. I may lack the gene for certain types of play, but apart from that I score quite well on the list of options as a woman who has chosen the reproduction route. So I do not beat myself up too much for that. Shop keeping I am not sure I am winning prizes at, yet. Gosh it is a rollercoaster. One day up, the next, trawling the depths of despair with a large rake, looking for disaster and destruction.

So I watch myself and more and more, use the tools that I have been learning about during the past 10 years.
I saw a woman had the word BREATHE embossed on her wrist. Much amusement from the press, but Oh my, I can relate. The number of times, over the years, that I have wished a permanent reminder of that and several other words like NOW and Just for Today, and It is not personal. I applaude her courage to openly wish for more.

On a more futuristic note, a scary program on Radio 4 this morning where a farmer, ( I am sure he was more important that just a farmer, but I missed his intro) was pushing the need for GM crops to take us into food production for the next 20 years. The gentleman from the Soil Association was given a brief moment to comment, but it was not sufficient to dampen the time given to the argument that it was the only way forward. Interesting to hear how we are manipulated by the media. Do we really notice how much we are played with? I think not.