14th May 2017
I’ve been seeing a lot of babies around lately, and
I find it quite remarkable that the gestation period of a human is only nine
months. In comparison to our life expectancy, and in relation to all of the
stuff we’re expected to do, it’s a very short amount of time. We’re kind of
like popcorn in a way. We go into the microwave as kernels and, almost
instantly, come out as deliciously little and delightfully warm puffs of
nourishing goodness (speaking for myself, obviously). What’s even more
remarkable is that our mums are expected to, not only pop us out, but also
raise us and not eat us in the process. It sounds like a difficult job to me,
that’s for sure. I mean have you seen how yummy babies are? What would be even
more difficult, I imagine, would be if a mum had to go away for a length of
time at the beginning of baby popcorn’s life. More still, if said mum had to go
away in order to make sure both she and baby popcorn had the best chance at a
life where they both had a shot at a mummy/popcorn relationship.
Emperor penguin mums have to do that, I think (I’m
going mostly off what I’ve seen on “Happy Feet”). Penguin mum will lay an egg
and, out of necessity, leave it with the penguin dad to care for whilst she
goes off into the treacherous and scary conditions that are the Antarctic
(shout out to the penguin dads). I’m imagining the ordeal is quite dramatic.
There are leopard seals, and sharks, and humans, and plastic bags, and, I’m
sure, an array of existential questions. But penguin mum has no choice; she needs
to face all of these cold, wet, yucky things so she can get lovely and fat with
self-care and fish. The two things she needs to be overflowing with so she can
go home to her little egg and nourish it the way it needs. And sure, when
penguin mum finally gets home her little egg may be a penguin baby, and penguin
dad may be a little scragglier than when she last saw him. But the truth is,
penguin baby and penguin dad don’t mind that she was gone so long. Because she
came back, and everybody got to eat some fish, and everybody knew they were
loved.
They’re amazing, hey? Maternal instincts. And to
think that for the entire time the penguin mums are away from their little
families, they’re thinking thoughts like “I
wonder how little Eggbert is getting on…” or “I hope Megg is nice and warm under Daddy’s fat…” They just don’t
forget that that thing they made is well and truly real. And that’s just
penguins, they do it subconsciously. Actual human mums must be thinking about
their children nonstop on a realizing level. It must be like when you get a
massive pimple, and you know it’s there, and you know people can see it, and you’re
just way too conscious of this pimple being a thing; but the pimple has legs
and it isn’t on your face, it’s out in the world doing whatever it wants. And
it just keeps living for years and years and years. Terrifying. (If you have
children, I’m not calling them pimples. I’m saying children are kind of like
pimples.)
My Mum would probably say I’m a pimple. Not like in
a mean, abusive, let’s abandon all motherly intuitions kind of way. More like a
“I’m thinking about you all the time, and
you cause me a fair amount of grief, but I had you as a result of eating a lot
of chocolate so you are nothing but a product of love, and I will never pop
you…” kind of way. And I’m really grateful for that. Much like how baby
popcorn is grateful for not being eaten, or how penguin baby appreciates her
penguin mum coming back after such a long time.
For Mum
Mothers
Day 2017
Meg x