Friday, 27 February 2015

The importance of being Esme

Currently my eldest is coming through a state of hormonal flux. I know this for several reasons, not least because I looked up tantrums and discovered they commonly occur at ages 2-3 (no great shakes there), 6-7 (ta-dah) and 11-12 (and yes, forever more thereafter).

I am very aware that I need to always take the time to nurture my children's ability to love themselves. Especially Esme, my sensitive 6YO.

Only this morning she broke down, saying she thinks her glasses make her look rubbish. Oh sweet child of mine. Life has recently been a little tough for you.

You are dealing with the news that you have a peanut allergy - and I know it is bothering you for  yesterday you made this reminder for me and Daddy, which you tacked to the front door.

Do not forget the epi pen for my peanut allergy
(Swollen lips)

A few days ago, you stomped upstairs, muttering how you hated me simply because I asked you to stop cutting out the snowflake you were making, and to come and get your coat on to go to school.

Arms crossed and brow furrowed, you had raged up the stairs mumbling "I hate you Mummy", only to hurry down again, angrily asking, "Did you hear what I said Mummy?"

Yes darling of course I did, you had meant me to after all. But a mother will always do best in this instance to act as if she did not. (Besides, I presume this was the first of many "I hate you Mummy's" yet to come). As I opened the door and announced that I was leaving to go to school, you grabbed your coat and accompanied me, huffing, incensed that I hadn't reacted to your outburst.

Of course I felt crap letting you go into class that day, waving you in with a smile and wishing you well. The shame you had looked back with was almost too much to bear, but I had to let you wear it as you went on your way. My lovely girl.

Lovely girl. Love yourself. Please. We all love you so much. I love you. And your glasses. You so suit them. I cannot imagine you without them now. The way you crinkle your nose when they slide down upon it. They've always been you my love. Always.


Suzanne W said...

Ah what a little cutie-pie and what amazing writing skills! So hard when are lovely kiddies go through stuff. Equally hard on mummy. You're doing amazingly :) x

Suzanne W said...


Emma Oliver said...

Thanks Suzanne, what a lovely comment - and yes, proud mummy, I think her writing is beautiful! Thanks x

Carly Dyer said...

How lucky beautiful Esme is to have such a fab mum. She is unique, gorgeous, loved. Claudia was sad to miss her today. Xxx

Tracy said...

Esme is absolutely gorgeous and I'm quite envious of those glasses! Might have to change mine now. ;)
I remember telling my mother I hated her and I left home a few times as well. When I say left home, I packed my little suitcase and stood outside the front gate. It's all part of the mother and daughter relationship. Don't worry, she loves her mummy very much.
Her handwriting is fabulous! X

Emma Oliver said...

Ah thanks Carl, what a lovely comment. It was lovely to see you and Alexa xxx

Emma Oliver said...

Hi Tracy, lovely comment. And yes me too. I remember the time I packed - but only took the contents of my top drawer. I arrived at a hide out (my best friend's house) and opened up my bag to nothing but knickers. In many ways, I feel my mother may have been quite proud of this!) x

Mummy Tries said...

Oh hon I feel your pain, it's so awful sending them to school after a meltdown isn't it! Lots of hugs and chocolate coming your way. Keep up the marvellous job xxx