“Muuuuuum…”

I had a wee lightbulb moment the other day as a mummy. My darling (yes, I’m biased) youngest boy called out to be while I was outside gardening. I must have missed the first couple of times he called ‘Mum’ because he looked mildly alarmed as he came around the corner of the house.

Once he saw me, his dear little face lit up and he raced over and, in the manner of small children, hugged my leg. “I just wanted to know where you were,” he said, and trotted off to resume his dinosaur game. Order had been restored in his little world. Mum was nearby, so he was fine.

Countless times every day, I hear, “Muuuuum….’ Truthfully, sometimes it takes a bit of an internal pep talk to answer. For example, last Sunday, shortly before 7am, while I was languishing in that beautiful no man’s land of semi consciousness, I was blasted awake with questions about the intricacies of the scrum rules in rugby. With eyes barely open and an only passing knowledge of the subject, it seemed unnecessary and frankly irksome. As it also did later in the day when I was trying to reassure my 12 year old daughter that statistics can be interpreted a number of ways. The self defence instructor at her school had cheerily informed the class that one in three girls will be physically attacked by the time they are 15. Not exactly uplifting!

So, my lightbulb was this; every question in the world for small children starts with one word…’Muuuum…’ and includes the absolute belief following:

– How hot is the sun?

– Do eels have tvs?

– What did you do in the olden days when there was no internet?

– Can you fix my squashed praying mantis?

– Where is my (insert any of a million options)?

– When will there be the next earthquake?

– Will our house be safe?

– Am I going to be an All Black?

– Do ants fall in love?

– Why did Grandad die?

– Can you undo this knot?

– I didn’t touch it, but it just broke, can you fix it?

– Why do wars start?

– Why doesn’t Daddy live here?

You get the picture. As a single mother, on the days I have to take several breaths to answer politely, I try to remember to thank my lucky stars that my children are still at an age where I can answer most of their questions and solve most of their problems. 

For now, I will revel in the fact that a cuddle and affirmation from Mum is 90% of what they need to wipes their tears, straighten their shoulders and go off back into the world, knowing that they are loved and believed in. The looks of love and confidence every time I can help are payback a million times over.

Soon enough, the issues will become bigger and more complex, and my role will be just to listen and support and offer whatever wisdom I have on the subject.

The responsibility is awesome in all senses of the word and at times overwhelming. A very wise friend once reminded me that mummies should sometimes say, “I’m not sure, let’s find out,’ so as to rid our children of the burden of thinking they need to grow up and know everything.