I'm not ready

I'm not ready for kids
     Not ready to hand over my house
     To the mess and the grime and the slime of
          kids.
     Or to quit climbing my mountains
     To spend my time on
          kids.
     Not ready to lose my relationship
     In the stress and the hurry and hustle of
          kids.
     I'm not ready for the responsibility of
          kids,
     Or to lose myself for
          kids.
I'm not ready for kids.
     Not ready to fill my house with the
     Tears and giggles and hugs of
          kids.
     Not ready to be amazed at every
     car or dog or lamppost like
          kids,
     Or to watch my husband bloom into Dad
     when he's with our
          kids.
     I'm not ready to become a new
     a better person for my
          kids.
I'm not ready for kids
But tell me, who is?

Praying out Loud

I found myself today surrounded by my toddler (can you be surrounded by one person? Yes, when they're two and a half feet tall, charging about and destroying your living room, yes you can.) He was busy overturning the dining chairs and dismantling my armchair, and in the middle of it I was reciting out loud the words of the novena to Christ the King.

Oh by the way, there's this really cool thing:

praymorenovenas.com

It reminds you to pray novenas.

Occasionally, I had to pause to say something along the lines of "No, please don't hit the baby" or "OUCH!" or "ARGGGGGHHHH GET THE CHAIR OFF MY FOOT!" 

I could think: what good is any of this? I'm not really concentrating on the prayers, I'm not giving my son all the attention he wants. He's certainly not interested in praying. It is tempting to see it this way, and to just give up. 

But I chose to pray in that moment. I offered that moment to God because it was all that I had to give. All I have to give, one baby boy who smiles and screams, one little boy who spreads chaos as a matter of routine. All I have to give, a head full of worries and a trepidatious heart. I have to hand over the hoovering and the laundry and the tears I wipe from faces and the play doh apples that I'm ordered to make and the stories I read and the nappies I change and all the love I have for my little family. I give what I have and in so doing I find that I am rich. 

And for my son too the prayer time matters, we are trying to get him used to God. He makes the sign of the cross - even if he does get it a little mixed up with head, shoulders, knees and toes. He can point out Mummy Mary and St Joseph and Jesus when we go to church. We light a candle together - having to remind him that we should not blow it out because Jesus might like to look at it later. He can almost say Amen. He has a lot to learn, but we can only start with little steps. 

So I'll carry on praying out loud and I hope that the Lord will hear me over the din. And I'll keep making baby steps towards my God. If I am ever going to reach him, I must be like a child. I must be more like my little ones, and they make baby steps. My little ones have a lot to learn, but so do I. 

Travels with a Toddler - Lake District

In late October we travelled up to the Lake District for a weekend with old friends. Having left it late to book, as we usually do, our best choice for low cost family accommodation was YHA Hawkshead. Hawkshead is a lovely youth hostel housed in a grand old Regency style house across the water from Ambleside. Our room was in the main part of the house, and we had wonderful views over Esthwaite Water and out to the mountains.

Staying all together in one room was never going to be the easiest option with a 2 year old and a 2 month old and we learnt on the first night that for our older boy to go to sleep distraction had to be kept to a minimum. In the traditional youth hostels like this one, there is always somewhere to go aside from your own dorm or room, so I made use of the quiet lounge to feed the little one and get on with some needlework while Andy settled the larger one (with much difficulty).

Our days were magical, the toddler loved exploring the countryside (read throwing pebbles/rocks/sticks into lakes/streams/puddles). The autumn colours were absolutely splendid and transformed the countryside into a glittering jewellery box. By the second day I was growing tired of having to gasp in awe every time we turned round a bend in the car.

We visited friends at the National Trust campsite in Langdale - the same one the toddler and I stayed at last year, and had a barbeque - all the other campers were terribly jealous. We walked around Tarn Hows on the wonderfully buggy-friendly trail, discovering a herd of cows, a money tree and some of the most postcard worthy views in Cumbria. We strolled around Ambleside, and I thanked God for the friendly local library where I could retreat to feed the little one without having to buy yet another coffee - it's a hard life!

We rounded off the weekend with a visit to Grisedale, exploring some of their more accessible adventure options. The walk from the visitor centre down some mountain bike trails to Wood Moss Tarn was certainly a buggy adventure with some rough-ish paths and undulating terrain through the woods. Then the short accessible loop around the woods near the outdoor education centre proved a wonderful activity for everyone as we were able to appreciate some of the gorgeous sculptures that have been installed there. In certain places the trees have been turned into music boxes that play a pretty tune when you wind them up - can there be anything more magical?

All in all we had a fantastic weekend with our friends and were able to provide a taste of adventure for our little boys in a stunning environment. I relished the opportunity to take some landscape photographs as you will see below...

The accessible trail at Grisedale

In the woods at Grisedale on the way to Wood Moss Tarn

A view over Tarn Hows

Part of the path at Tarn Hows - with herd of picturesque cows loitering in the background

Resplendent autumn colours at a fork in the path

Tarn Hows posing area