Maya

If we hope to give children the gift of a happy, responsible, fully alive adulthood, we must first live that way ourselves.

Cheri Huber & Melinda Guyol



I have very hazy recollections of incidents that happened to me when I was one or two, but realistically I think these have been aided by photographs. My first certain memory comes from the age of three when I was at playschool. I think most of us count our first memories from around this age, and whilst I'm not saying that things that happen pre-three can't have a profound effect on our lives, I'm becoming increasingly aware now that interaction with Maya at this stage could become part of the fabric of her early memories.

Maya recently turned three and verbally, physically and emotionally she seems to become more grown-up by the day. She is able to articulate what she is feeling, talk about what we are doing and really think about problems and how they're best solved. The reason I am talking about this is because I am very, very conscious of how she may be filtering her experience of 'tired mummy' into her consciousness. I know I musn't be hard on myself and be happy that, on the most part, I do the very best for Maya that I possibly can. But I also don't want her early memories of me to be of a tired, irritable woman. Because that is most definitely what I feel like sometimes.

The challenge for me, on days like today when I've clocked up no more than about 7 hours of sleep in 3 nights (Hour counting, I know, another of my vices...) is to be present with Maya; not be short-tempered with her but try and slowly, quietly work through conundrums. It takes a great deal of strength, and to be honest sometimes I don't feel I have it in me. But I know it's something I need to work on.