Mistakes #TheMMLinky and Babies #BlogTober 

This might seem a strange combination, but bear with me, all will be revealed.

I’m a firm believer in the quote above.  

We’re not all perfect, wouldn’t it be absolutely in-your-face boring if we were? You only have to read certain weekly gossip magazines to realise that some “celebs” seem to be morphing into each other, in their quest for perfection.  

I made a mistake yesterday, not a massive one but it’s one that makes what I’ve been working on mine:

Somewhere in there is a missed stitch, I’m not going to search for it.  I don’t need to.  It’s rectified, I love it and my little mistake is what will make it personal to me.

Some mistakes can be bigger of course and then it’s a case of learning from them and moving on, trying to bury whatever emotions are associated and making the best of it.

For example, on my first wedding day, I was told I was making a “mistake” by the man who was – probably very willingly – giving me away.  I remember it very clearly, we were sat around the corner from the church and, instead of – you know, the usual things that might be said – telling me how lovely I looked, I was told that.   Maybe I was but it was my mistake to make.

A few years and some Clomid later (ovulation drug), I was pregnant.  Very happily pregnant.

I’d always wanted to be a mum.  It probably came from spending a lot of time with my youngest sister, who was born when I was 11.  She’d be crying at night and I’d go in and cuddle her because no-one else did, that sort of thing.  I wanted to have a house full of love and laughter and there’s no doubt that my parents’ divorce when I was 9 (yes, do the maths, things progressed quickly post-divorce) affected my resolve to be there for any future children.

So, there I was, two weeks overdue with my eldest, but having niggling doubts as to whether the “mistake” comment was justified and whether, even though I was fully committed to parenting, it was a partnership.  

It wasn’t.  I became a single parent when my son was 3 and was juggling full time work, child care and paying for a house with a token £5 a week via the CSA.

But I don’t regret that “mistake”, how can I? If I hadn’t been determined to stay in my house, to carry on working, I would never have met my friend, who introduced me to her brother, who became my Hubbie when my son was 6.

If I hadn’t met Hubbie, we wouldn’t have our two wonderful children, T and D, born 18 months apart – with no need for Clomid(!)

T was born in my old house, bang on his due date and D was born in our new house, 6 weeks after we moved in, 6 days early, 

Having T and D made the decision to become a SAHM mum easy, I’d done the juggling bit and it was hard, I felt that I not only wanted but needed to be there for all three of them.

I childminded and at times did wonder if I was helping T and D by having other children around but was told by an educational psychologist that it would benefit social skills so I shouldn’t feel guilty. Another potential mistake averted.

And they are all growing up now, individual in their own ways.  I love being a mum and learn more and more each day from our children.

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