"When you often write about the joys, and occasional horrors, of parenting, it’s really easy to decide what to talk about when you have kids of any age providing you with daily adventures, let alone the two boys of 10 and 12 I come equipped with! I know; I'm not sure where the time has gone either!
This time, I wanted to write about how I was recently reminded that you're not always in control as a parent. We like to think we have complete control, but the truth is we actually only have complete responsibility.
Our kids will act of their own free will, and so they should, although ideally within the reasonable boundaries we set for them! Behaviour is one area we look to impose influence, however illness, grief or distress can be somewhat harder to provide a solution for.
Seeing your child in pain is probably the epitome of helplessness. I hate that you can’t magically transfer that feeling onto yourself instead. I’ve experienced this with Freddy due to his occasional tendency to wake up with night terrors, a terrifying effect of dehydration or a fever, which leads to irrational behaviour and hallucinations.
Before Freddy went to sleep last night I spoke to him about what he would like to do for Jade’s birthday this week. Usually he would be full of suggestions but on this occasion all he could manage were a few 'I don't knows'.
He seemed exhausted from a hot day at school so I cuddled up next to him and stroked his head until he fell asleep. Quite unusually an hour or so later he woke again in tears caused by a discomfort that he seemed to feel was in the back of his neck.
I sensed grief was playing a part but that was an easy assumption to make given our conversation before bed and the effect an important date relating to mum could sometimes have on him.
Its hard when you know one of these dates is coming up because you know there’s likely to be a lot going on in their heads that they don't always share with you, you kind of have to guess by the way that they express it through behaviour or from waking up at irregular times with unusual ailments.
He moved around the house sobbing going from bedroom to bedroom trying to find comfort and all I could offer him was a cuddle, some medicine and plenty of water.
Bobby on the other hand had requested not going in to school today and, whilst I think that's a dangerous precedent for me to set, and believe he would be better distracted and amongst friends than sitting at home while I coach a handful of clients downstairs, I would rather that if there was to be an overwhelming feeling of sadness that he is at home so I can pick him up and deal with it throughout the day.
I'm sure that the regular visit to mum's special place with their godparents this evening will provide them both with an outlet for anything they are coping with today, a chance to put a card and some flowers down and to feel like they have honoured her memory and ensure she has been remembered and cared for.
It fascinates me that Fred always seems to use really infantile language when he is ill or in pain. I believe this is a reflection of him returning to the mind set and age he was when he lost his mum, and I can fully appreciate that this may be reasonably common in bereaved children.
Fred did eventually get comfortable settling in front of a cartoon. I felt apprehensive that he would wake again during the night and not recognise me, as was the case a few years ago, but instead of stressing myself, I’ll concede to helplessness on these occasions as long as I never let either of them feel alone.
You don't need to have all the answers; you just have to be there."