‘When a child is born’ is today’s Christmas song. Fred Jay's lyrics have been sung by many artists, most successfully by Johnny Mathis in 1976, and whose version became the Christmas number one in the UK.
When any child, anywhere is born, it is a time for celebration. Having a child for any parent and to see them toddling is like watching your heart step outside your body. Children reinvent a married couple’s world, and, in most cases, they complete it. Though the newly-born child is a special arrival in the lives of both parents, the child’s presence will always be felt more by their mother. It fills a place in her heart that she never knew was empty. She nourishes the child inside her for nine months, cradles it in her arms for three years and then holds it in her heart for the rest of her life. The umbilical cord never really disappears throughout the life of mother and child and however independent the child grows into adulthood, only the mother's love seems to be able to pull her offspring back from the brink of wrongful action when their determination lies in a different direction to parental values.
When I first became a father, I had several strong theories about bringing up children, but after fathering several children, all my theories were soon discarded alongside Doctor Spock’s bible. I quickly learned that the fewer material things one gives their child the more reliant they become on their own abilities, and vice versa. I learnt that whenever you want your child ‘not’ to do something, the very worse word a parent can use is ‘don’t’. I eventually learned to worry far less that they might break their bones from the rough and tumble exploration of life and to concern myself more with the protection of their feelings. The hardest thing I had to learn, however, and I am still learning is when to treat them as a child and not an adult and vice versa as they will always remain as both in my mind. The irony of the parental experience is that while we try to teach our children all about life, it is our children who effectively teach us what life is all about.
Was I to identify the greatest irritant to a child’s curiosity not being satisfied, it would be to unnecessarily restrict their area of exploration and not to answer their questions honestly, however many times they ask the same question until they obtain a reply of satisfaction? My mother was not the most schooled of parents, and as the oldest of seven children, she had to put in two hours work every morning before going into school late. She was, however, the best of mothers and most learned in those things all good mothers should instinctively know. As the oldest child of seven, ‘seven ‘seemed to be her cardinal number. She knew that there were seven things that every child needs to hear in order to be and stay happy, healthy and hopeful. They were, ‘I love you, I’m proud of you, I’m sorry, I forgive you, I’m listening, this is your responsibility, and this is what it takes to….’
My parents were opposites whenever it came to how emotionally expressive and open they were in their response. While they both remained wholly honest in their response, whereas dad’s replies to my childlike questions might remain nebulous, my mother’s reply would be nothing less than ‘the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth’. As a young and curious child, when I asked both mum and dad separately, ‘where I came from?’ and ‘how I managed to get from inside my mother’s stomach to the outside when I was born?’ my mother’s answer was nothing less than providing me with ‘the full Monty’ while dad’s response remained truthfully vague. My father gave me the traditional Yorkshire miner’s reply, ‘The same way you got in!’ whereas my mother understood that I already knew which county and village in Ireland I was born, so she told me the place where I was conceived.
My conception occurred near to ‘The Metal Man’ in Westtown, Tramore, Co. Waterford, Ireland. The Metal Man stands on one of three pillars near Newtown Cove, the maritime beacons were constructed through Lloyds of London at the behest of the Admiralty after the tragic loss of 360 lives after 'HMS Seahorse' sank after becoming grounded at 'Brownstown Head' in bad weather. This tragedy happened in 1816. The Metal Man is still standing today and is dressed in British sailor’s clothes, blue jacket, red top and white trousers. The Metal Man is currently on private land and entry to the lands is blocked as the cliffs around the three pillars are very dangerous and unprotected.
My mother told me that in her days of courtship with my father, that he would cycle 33 miles weekly from Kilkenny to Portlaw, where they might spend some private time together away from the prying eyes of her parents. Mum told me that it was during these private moments that I was conceived. So, whereas all children soon learn where they are born, very few I guess, rarely learn of the place where they were conceived! But that was the essence of my mum; she taught me the most important things I ever was to learn!
Love and peace. Bill xx
When any child, anywhere is born, it is a time for celebration. Having a child for any parent and to see them toddling is like watching your heart step outside your body. Children reinvent a married couple’s world, and, in most cases, they complete it. Though the newly-born child is a special arrival in the lives of both parents, the child’s presence will always be felt more by their mother. It fills a place in her heart that she never knew was empty. She nourishes the child inside her for nine months, cradles it in her arms for three years and then holds it in her heart for the rest of her life. The umbilical cord never really disappears throughout the life of mother and child and however independent the child grows into adulthood, only the mother's love seems to be able to pull her offspring back from the brink of wrongful action when their determination lies in a different direction to parental values.
When I first became a father, I had several strong theories about bringing up children, but after fathering several children, all my theories were soon discarded alongside Doctor Spock’s bible. I quickly learned that the fewer material things one gives their child the more reliant they become on their own abilities, and vice versa. I learnt that whenever you want your child ‘not’ to do something, the very worse word a parent can use is ‘don’t’. I eventually learned to worry far less that they might break their bones from the rough and tumble exploration of life and to concern myself more with the protection of their feelings. The hardest thing I had to learn, however, and I am still learning is when to treat them as a child and not an adult and vice versa as they will always remain as both in my mind. The irony of the parental experience is that while we try to teach our children all about life, it is our children who effectively teach us what life is all about.
Was I to identify the greatest irritant to a child’s curiosity not being satisfied, it would be to unnecessarily restrict their area of exploration and not to answer their questions honestly, however many times they ask the same question until they obtain a reply of satisfaction? My mother was not the most schooled of parents, and as the oldest of seven children, she had to put in two hours work every morning before going into school late. She was, however, the best of mothers and most learned in those things all good mothers should instinctively know. As the oldest child of seven, ‘seven ‘seemed to be her cardinal number. She knew that there were seven things that every child needs to hear in order to be and stay happy, healthy and hopeful. They were, ‘I love you, I’m proud of you, I’m sorry, I forgive you, I’m listening, this is your responsibility, and this is what it takes to….’
My parents were opposites whenever it came to how emotionally expressive and open they were in their response. While they both remained wholly honest in their response, whereas dad’s replies to my childlike questions might remain nebulous, my mother’s reply would be nothing less than ‘the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth’. As a young and curious child, when I asked both mum and dad separately, ‘where I came from?’ and ‘how I managed to get from inside my mother’s stomach to the outside when I was born?’ my mother’s answer was nothing less than providing me with ‘the full Monty’ while dad’s response remained truthfully vague. My father gave me the traditional Yorkshire miner’s reply, ‘The same way you got in!’ whereas my mother understood that I already knew which county and village in Ireland I was born, so she told me the place where I was conceived.
My conception occurred near to ‘The Metal Man’ in Westtown, Tramore, Co. Waterford, Ireland. The Metal Man stands on one of three pillars near Newtown Cove, the maritime beacons were constructed through Lloyds of London at the behest of the Admiralty after the tragic loss of 360 lives after 'HMS Seahorse' sank after becoming grounded at 'Brownstown Head' in bad weather. This tragedy happened in 1816. The Metal Man is still standing today and is dressed in British sailor’s clothes, blue jacket, red top and white trousers. The Metal Man is currently on private land and entry to the lands is blocked as the cliffs around the three pillars are very dangerous and unprotected.
My mother told me that in her days of courtship with my father, that he would cycle 33 miles weekly from Kilkenny to Portlaw, where they might spend some private time together away from the prying eyes of her parents. Mum told me that it was during these private moments that I was conceived. So, whereas all children soon learn where they are born, very few I guess, rarely learn of the place where they were conceived! But that was the essence of my mum; she taught me the most important things I ever was to learn!
Love and peace. Bill xx
