Wednesday, 30 June 2010

The Gallery - Emotion

How does this make you feel?

What does it make you think?

Because it could make me feel anything from anger to joy, and all the emotions in between.

Anger:  when she's a year, or two, or three, or probably older than that and she's fighting with her sisters and they are all screaming at each other and you have to shout to be heard over the melee.  And all three of them are tear-stained and you could murder each of them.

Desperation: when she's six weeks old, and she screams, and she screams, and she screams, and you feed her, and she screams, and you hold her and she screams, and her father walks out of the house because he can't take it any more.  He comes back, of course he does, he only went round the block, but the tears take longer to stop.

Joy, well maybe not joy, but certainly gratification.  When she's three and she's done something naughty, and she knows it.   And she isn't allowed a story, and she cries.  And you are glad.

Frustration: when she is two and a bit, and she wakes in the night, and she wants you.  And you know she's ok, and she knows she's ok, and all she really is is bored. And then she starts crying again. For the fourth time.  And you have to get out of bed again.  For the fourth time.  And you could shake her.  If only you didn't have to get out of bed to do it.

Pity:  when she's eight weeks old, and has her first injections, and pain enters her world. Or when she's eighteen months and her Bunny is in the washing machine. Or when she's three and she bites her tongue. Or all those times that she hurts and you can't stop it, however much you kiss it better.

Amusement:  when she's two, and she has a tantrum. Out of nowhere, arms flailing, face contorted, snot dripping.  And you know you should be doing something about it, but all you can do is laugh. And find the camera.

Like she's six weeks old again:  when she's twenty six and her heart has been broken. And you find her, at the top of the stairs, in a crumpled heap, sobbing, not as though her heart would break, because it's too late for that. And you gather her into your arms and you rock her backwards and forwards and you murmur into her hair "my baby, my baby".

Because you are forty six, and she is twenty six; or you are thirty three and she is three; or you are both older or younger and anywhere in between; but she is your baby, and she hurts. And her tears are your tears.


It's the Gallery again, and this time Tara's linked up with Josie at Sleep is for the Week, to get us both taking pictures and writing about emotions. Click on either of the links to see more.


  1. Oh you so and so, you've made me cry. Lovely, honest post. Broken hearts, oh my goodness. Pass the tissues x

  2. Would it make you feel better if I told you I married him eighteen months later....?! But yes, still makes me cry to think about it. Not because I was so hurt, but because my mum was.

  3. I wish I had that relationship with my mum, I am striving for it with the boys. A great post

  4. Fantastic post...the tears jumped up and got me with that crumpled heap, I was smiling until then!

  5. awww that's all it makes me feel. Makes me want to give her a huge hug and make it all better

  6. That's the best things I've read all day. Brilliant. Pass the kleenex!

  7. Such an honest and real post about what we feel when our children cry. It's hard to always admit we feel those things but we do! Wow, lovely and amazing and thanks for being real.

  8. Beautiful. The joys of motherhood eh?

  9. Followed Deer Baby here. She never leads me astray. Beautiful.

  10. Oh god. I'm in tears. Sent here by Deer Baby, and I'm glad. That is so beautiful, and so sad and lovely.

  11. Brilliantly done, really touched me. Jen

  12. *cries* that's so beautiful. You are an amazing mother

  13. What an absolutely lovely post. You have summed up what it means to be a mother.

  14. Oh god I'm crying that is lovely, so beautiful. I had to smile as we've had the first instance of our son lying face down on the floor, hands over face, crying from frustration because i wouldn't let him do something and you're right, it was very funny.

  15. What a tear jerking post, very well done x

  16. That photo made me want to cry before I had even read your words. Now I have read your emotive words I have welled up and have a big lump in my throat.
    Such a beautifully written and well thought out piece - depicting exactly what being a mum means.

  17. Wow. Such a beautiful post. Glad I clicked over from Josie's! :) You are an excellent writer.

  18. Well that was a rollercoaster - I feel drained in a way you only can when you've just gone through it all again whilst reading it - cos it's is all SO true.

  19. Thank you all for such lovely comments. I'm so sorry I made you cry. Actually I'm sort of proud too... but I'm mostly sorry.

    And a special extra thank you to Deer Baby for sending new people my way. I'm really touched and delighted to see some new faces. Thank you and welcome!

    Oh, and apologies for an inaccuracy. I can't add thirty to twenty six. Whoops. Not going to change it though because although my mum doesn't read my blog, I think she'd be pleased I've wiped ten years off her age!

    Mad Mummy - I think actually I have a rather odd relationship with my mum (maybe we all do?) but what that moment made me realise is that to her I am still her baby, and since having the girls, I've realised that she feels about me the way I feel about the girls. It's incredibly humbling. I try and remember that when she's driving me loopy.

    Christine - Thank you. And sorry I made you cry.

    The Moiderer - I think you're a nicer person than I am. It actually very rarely makes me think "Aww" although she does look quite cute really doesn't she? That was the resigned and devastated phase of the tantrum!

    Deer Baby - thank you so much, for lovely words as well as new people.

    Heather - thank you. And thank you for reassuring me that I'm not the only one who thinks like this sometimes!

    Susie - Joys, pains, and everything in between!

    Life in a Pink Fibro (what is that?! - must go and find out!). Welcome. Thank you for coming, and for lovely words.

    Rachael - Welcome and thank you. Sorry the first thing I did was make you cry...

    Jen - thank you so much.

    Livi - thank you. I'm not sure I am, but it's lovely to be told it anyway.

    Victoria - Thank you. Really means a lot.

    Mummy Limited - be warned. Once they start, they don't really stop... I had S for a good half an hour this evening because I'd put her blanket in the wash. You've got to laugh really!

    New Mummy - thank you.

    Mummy Mishaps - it's a goody isn't it? Not one for the album, and I do feel a bit bad stalking her with a camera. She was not impressed! Thank you for your lovely words too.

    Working housewife - hello and welcome. Thank you.

    Mrs W - I'm so glad it's not just me. I was writing bits of it thinking "I hope I'm not the only one who feels this"... Very relieved.

  20. A beautiful post.
    What does the photo make me feel? like i want to pick her up and give her a hug. i was thinking about this the other day how when you see a littl'un crying you just want to hug them, but when they're yours, there are so many, complicated emotions involved. Parenthood really is so difficult.

  21. I thought of another one too:

    Relief: when she's brand new, hardly a person in her own right, and you can't even see her, and you hear her cry and you know she's ok. Or when she's three and she falls and there's that moment of silence, while you stop breathing until you hear the yell that means nothing (that) bad has happened (this time)....

    Because sometimes crying is good...

    Mirka and Marketing (like the alliteration there) thank you for lovely comments... it is difficult, isn't it? But worth it (mostly!)


I know. I'm sorry. I hate these word recognition, are you a robot, guff things too, but having just got rid of a large number of ungrammatical and poorly spelt adverts for all sorts of things I don't want, and especially don't want on my blog, I'm hoping that this will mean that only lovely people, of the actually a person variety, will comment.

So please do. Comments are great...