Yesterday was 'Suicide Prevention Day' and last night's episode of the ABC's
Four Corners 'There is no 3G in Heaven', focused on the tragic issue of youth suicide. The horrific tales of children lost told by wonderfully brave and eloquent, grief-stricken mothers reduced me to a snotty mess of sympathetic sobs.
How simple the woes of the mother of young children. Give me a trillion tantrums over the pain of what those women must feel. The significance of my 'are they watching too much TV?' and 'are they participating in enough stimulating activities?' dilemmas pale in comparison of what's to come as they grow up. Bullying, depression, drugs, alcohol, car accidents, self-esteem, sex. For now, I will savour every moment of Ollie's 2am clamber into our bed for a cuddle for soon enough it will 2am and too drunk to find his keys.
Extra bedtime kisses were planted on the soft foreheads of my sleeping babies last night and I took a moment to absorb the loveliness of their sleepy snuffles and to watch them as they lay snuggled in their little beds surrounded by their mountains of fluffy friends. When we were young my dad used to say he was going to 'put a brick on our heads' to stop us growing up so fast. My heart breaks for those women who have lost their children and I want to place a whole Great Wall of bricks on my babies' heads. Keep them small. Wrap them in cotton wool and bubble wrap and protect them from the big wide world of growing up.
