My son’s school friend, was playing with a chatterbox this morning. I haven’t seen one of those, since I was in school. I used to make loads of them.
I told my son I would make him one, when he came home from school. And so I did.
I remembered how to make it, but as I was folding the paper, I could feel emotions welling up. Along with anxiety. No idea why, other than this is a reminder of my childhood in general, which was not a good one.
I tried to contain my emotions, as I wanted this to be a fun activity with my 6 year old. We worked out what numbers and colours, and wrote funny things for people to do.
I had to really focus on what I was doing, and focus on my son, and try really hard, to not allow the emotions to end up being tears.
But, once my son skipped off, ready to try his chatterbox out on his brother, the tears welled up in my eyes.
I hate my past interfering with my life now, when it involves my children. I don’t want my past, to be a part of Continue reading