Keeping on moving on

Our older child has now been at university for six weeks and all is apparently well.  He went with his instinct for his first choice - rather than settling for the place that was supposedly higher up on the league tables. It has meant that apart from the physical comforts of a well-resourced campus, he has ‘found his people’ - which is exactly the kind of higher education experience we all want for our kids.  None of us are complacent - but it’s good to know that at least the start of the academic year has been positive.  I was similarly lucky at Guildhall; on audition day my antennae told me that this was the right place - and so it proved to be.  Friends and family have pointed out to me how exceptional this luck was; I had naively assumed that almost everyone has a blast during their higher education years, finding great friends, a course that mostly suited and a series of often feral but funny memories to dine out on for many years after.  Recent conversations however have taught me that for many this wasn’t the case - indeed for some the whole higher education experience was miserable.  I’m also conscious that the good fortune that got me there is similarly exceptional; I went to state schools with free music education; specialist teachers, free instrumental lessons and free access to a whole range of bands and orchestras.  We went on tour nationally and internationally and I thought the rest of my life would fall into place in the same way.  Post graduation proved fairly sobering following that, but I have never stopped being grateful for that period of my life and the access to new worlds and experiences it presented.  I hope it proves the same for our boys, so - even though it is painful to see them move on - Big C and I have to face that gap in our lives - and learn to be happy and excited for our offspring.

Recent research shows that the gap in our lives isn’t just due to boredom or habit; it’s now known women are physically connected to their children for life - due to cells from a developing foetus crossing the placenta - allowing the baby’s DNA to become part of the mother’s body.  That proof of physical as well as spiritual connection probably comes as little surprise to many mothers, and may explain the pain on separation. There is quite a lot currently shared about this unsettling period and women are usually brutally honest about how they feel.  New choices that start to emerge can feel like an opportunity - and also bloody unsettling.

For the best part of twenty years, most parents spend their lives winging it; from the second you bring home that tiny human for whom you are responsible, you are spending the vast majority of your time working out how you can fit your needs round them.  Apart from the headspace, perhaps one of the most surprising adjustments in parenting is physical. Obviously there are the consequences of pregnancy and giving birth but also Big C - probably like a lot of fathers - actually lost weight when the kids became toddlers. Suddenly running after them and carrying them became a several-times-a-day constant, relentless activity.  A friend of mine said she felt physically battered and bruised - like she was permanently doing a really strenuous work-out - until her kids started school.  I felt the same.  I have noticed recently that my physical movements have started to change.  Yes - there is more time for exercise, but I’m not running everywhere.  Cooking has slowed down; rather than try to rush through chopping, frying and clearing up I’ve found myself fannying about more - because I can.  Food shopping used to be a ‘ready steady sprint’ job, whereas now there is the luxury of lingering, changing my mind and putting things back. Taking the kids to their activities used to be a complicated timetable with a headache lurking if schedules didn’t fall smoothly into place. Even household chores were mostly a whip round, slap dash and always, always in a hurry.  I was an old enough mother to know that trying to do everything perfectly was ridiculous and impossible and bolshy enough to fundamentally not care what anyone else thought.  But I still needed to get a lot done and this new extra time to do things properly feels strange - and indulgent.  I’ve forgotten how to.  It feels slightly embarrassing taking longer over things - with thoughts popping up like ‘am I a slow old bag already?’  (Yes I know that sentiment is loaded with sexism - but the Thought Police can’t stop me feeling it). When I was younger I thought nothing of listening to a record and doing nothing else - and now this feels - well a bit silly. Likewise going to bed early.  I used to do this if I was either exhausted or ill, but to retire because I want to read a good book? It’s difficult for this not to feel indulgent and wasteful.

Of course, the indulgence of more time has presented itself in a number of ways; being able to step out of the house without thinking of a thousand arrangements first has also required some adjustment.  I have just this week been to London twice to meet friends (another hitherto exceptionally rare treat) without really having to plan anything.  Older child is away, and the younger is delighted to have the place to himself to come and go as he pleases.  Spontaneity therefore is another disorienting mindset which will take some getting used to.  But it’s not hard - and picking up where we left off with my old studenty mates has been energising, poignant and screamingly funny.  A new adventure is starting - and it’s mostly exhilarating.

Uplifting music of the day:  It’s the fiftieth anniversary of ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ this week and although I’m not going to nominate this (I’m a bit sick of it to be honest) I am going to suggest something by Queen.  This was the first group I really got into.  I used to save up my paper round money to buy a new album and spent several indulgent hours listening over and over.  Their golden period for me was the ‘70s and every one of their albums was creative, classy, and really tight.  They were a fabulous example of how it’s possible to be simultaneously dirty sounding, but fabulously rehearsed and arranged.  The ‘Sheer Heart Attack’ album perfectly exemplifies this and I’m going to suggest ‘Stone Cold Crazy.’  It gets the pulse racing even writing about it.

Contemplative music of the day: The second movement of Greig’s piano concerto.  I love second movements - always the slower often very beautiful contemplative middle piece of three, where the harmonic shifts are more deeply explored and the melodies often lingering. The late Romantic period isn’t something I listen to much, but there’s something so bell-like, resonant and honest in this.