Saturday, 22 December 2012

Merry Christmas, Kian.

It's been year for the books. My creativity reached its peak with the emergence of my son, Kian, from my, well, we'll just say body. And what a major learning curve I've been negotiating since he exploded centre stage into the story of my life.

I think he came to change a thing or two about my ideas about life. I'm a floating, dreamer type with an irrational propensity towards wanderlustful adventure, or misadventure depending on your perspective. Kian has given me roots; roots I never thought I wanted. Because of him, I will never again use a dice instead of a five-year plan. I will always consider the impacts of my actions on his life, and knowing that I am a significant agent of his happiness means more to me than anything else ever will or could. It also means I'm now an adult.

He's taught me life is best lived as a perpetual experiment, led in equal parts by gut feeling and common sense, the balance of which is vital. Heady, thought-controlled approaches espoused in so many of the mothering books I've since thrown in the bin, are no good. And either is an attitude of 'whatever happens, happens.' Because you can't tell a hungry child that's it's no biggy you 'just forgot' his bottle. It's a very big biggy. Forgetfulness isn't a forgivable, charming quirk when you're a mother - it's an ailment to be taken seriously and corrected. But that doesn't mean that spontaneity gets usurped, either. It just learns to live beside it's well-intentioned neighbour, predictability. And, surprisingly, they make cosy bedfellows.

My creativity has found its place within the sometimes militaristic structures of domestic life, for example. I still desire to invent the things that float in my thoughts late at night. And sometimes, I actually do. This Christmas I wanted to bake up a storm, and I did. I even had cute, but highly kitsch,
'Kian's 1st Christmas' ribbon made. It did a great job wrapping my homemade granola and chocolate truffles. The cupcakes, muffins and strawberry cream sponge didn't need many frills. Just a rose or two, and some festive sprinkles :)


Spot the yule log? Wish I had taken a better picture before it met its end.

So 2012 is ending, not the world, and I'm a baking mamma - 2011 Aud would have screamed at the thought. She would have been silly to, because life is, figuratively and literally, very sweet right now.

Merry Christmas, Kian! Your very first one :)