I didn't write yesterday. Yesterday was just all bad.
Yesterday was a day of grey skies, a day of 18 month vaccinations.
Yesterday was a day of trying to keep my tears back so the kids wouldn't see me cry.
Yesterday was like walking through thick, thick mud. You try and pick your feet up, but the mud sticks to your shoes and you can barely walk your feet are so heavy.
Yesterday was a day when the children didn't nap long enough and I was so tired.
Yesterday was a day of trying, trying, constantly trying. It was a day of snapping, and doing my best not to yell.
Yesterday was a day of panadol.
Yesterday was a day when the night would never come, and when it finally did, it was a night spent walking up and down the street with an unhappy baby squirming in the baby carrier.
Yesterday was a day of failure, one of those days you don't want to remember.
The thing about blogging, is that generally, you only see about 10% of the blogger. Bloggers are kind of like icebergs. We write what we want to write, we tell people the things we want them to know. But there is often so much more going on beneath the surface.
There are many things, that, generally I don't tend to write about. I don't write about it when I am quietly simmering in anger at my husband, or when I totally lose my temper with my toddler. I don't write about the way I feel about my fat arms, and I certainly don't write on the days when it takes me two hours to get dressed because I hate the way I look in my clothes. I don't write about my dirty ceilings which are currently driving me insane, or those days when having two children under two drives me crazy. I don't write about the desperate tears in the shower, or how I am scared that eventually when she really starts talking my daughter is going to drop an f-bomb in some totally inappropriate place, because she heard it from me.
I also don't write about the amazing time I had while worshiping God the other night, I don't blog about the hilarious thing that my husband said that had us rolling around in laughter. I don't write about how I cleaned the toilet today and I don't blog about sex. I don't write about my last trip to the Doctor's, or our recent dilemma over circumcision. I don't blog about all the time that I waste on the computer at times, and I don't blog about the last conversation I had with my sister.
It's a question many bloggers seem to struggle with, where do you draw the line between authenticity, and airing out your dirty laundry?
I don't really plan on changing the way I write. But I just wanted to get this out there, because I know many of my posts lately have been about the good things that I am grateful for. And I am grateful. I've been thinking on the good things a lot lately. But for every positive post that is written, there is a negative one that is not. That is the way I choose to write. I choose to dwell on the good most of the time and try to forget the bad. That's how I try to live life most of the time. I think there's a lot of bad that nobody needs to see. I also choose to write mostly about the good stuff because I know my audience, and many of the people who read this are people who know me in real life, and I don't want a random acquaintance to know all the dirty details about my life. Sure I share some things, but I am careful. I'm sure if I wrote anonymously, I would be much more open, and candid, but I'd probably be much more negative and nasty at times too.
But I just wanted to remind you, I'm not perfect. I am so very, very human. I am doing my best to be better, but I am still me. I may sound positive and pleasant, but I still fight with my husband, lose my temper with my kids, and struggle with keeping my head in order just like the best of them.
There is always a lot going on underneath the surface.
Today it is Australia day. We don't necessarily do much in celebration. The greatest lengths we go to might involve a BBQ or get together with family or friends.
But I was thinking, what do I love about being Australian?
My Answer.... Freedom.
I love that as an Australian I can be free to be a Mummy, or an office worker, or a fireman if I so choose. I love that it is possible for me to have a good education, and that as an Australian I can access good healthcare services without having to pay any money for insurance. I love that I am free to walk down the street without fear of gunfire or violence, and I can wear whatever I want to wear. Most of all, I love that I am able to worship the God that I choose, without fear, and that in Him I have the ultimate freedom.
It doesn't matter whether it's celebrated with flags flying high, or with quiet cuddles with your baby. You can celebrate with a BBQ on the beach or a piece of your sisters leftover lasagne. But it's worth remembering that we are free.
I woke up to Charlie telling me he was ready for a feed. As I was feeding him, Georgie woke up. I finished feeding him and left him lying on my bed while I went in to Georgie. I found her covered in poop, which apparently has a play dough-like texture that makes it great for playing with. Not fun. That being said..... she was not eating it. {Grateful for the small things}
After chucking her in the bath, soaking her sheets, wiping her cot and the walls next to her cot and getting her dressed and ready for the day, I walked in to get Charlie who was just starting to fuss. I discovered more poop. Charlie's nappy had sprung a major leak and there was a wonderful big mess all over my bed. It had even gone through to our mattress protector. Not fun. Plus, today it has been raining and storming, making it much harder for me to get all this washing done.
Some days you seriously wonder why anyone would have kids.
I was trying to get us all fed and out the door by 9:30am as I had a meeting to go to. I was just starting to get really stressed as I could not put Charlie down without having him scream, so I had no idea how I was going to have a shower when I got a text message. It was from my sister, Jenny. It read 'Thought I'd cook you a lasagne today. Sound ok?' {Grateful for the small things}.
As I was just getting everything organised to go, Charlie was just starting to fuss again in his bed. Before I got to him Georgie had raced ahead of me and was reaching into the cradle to pat him on the head. {Grateful for the small things}
This motherhood thing can be so hard sometimes. It's easy to suddenly have everything pile on top of you and you feel like you are drowning. Little tasks which used to be so simple now seem so amazingly difficult. I am desperate for just a little bit of space. But amidst all the chaos that is raining down, there are patches of light. I've just got to remember to look for them.
Relish your life. I know that it is hard at times. I know that sometimes it feels like this is all too much work, and it is never going to end. But the truth is that you are living the dream, and this will pass all too quickly.
Squeeze those chubby little baby legs. Kiss those beautifully soft cheeks. Listen to that beautiful gurgly laugh. Imprint that girl's stunning smile into the very depths of your memory.
One day they will be grown up, and it will all be gone. I know that it is hard being a Mummy all of the time. But cherish the fact that you can be a Mummy all of the time. Be grateful that you can belong to them exclusively. Be thankful that you have the freedom to enjoy this gift of childhood.
Even though you are so, incredibly tired and you feel like you are never going to get yourself back again.... remember that you will. One day your body will be yours again. One day they will no longer belong to you like this, and you will miss being their everything. One day they will have problems that you cannot fix with a kiss and a cuddle.
Remember that some people cannot have children. That they are desperate for the thing you take for granted. Remind yourself that what you have is precious.... and it can be lost. Hold on tight to those little hands. Glory in the wonder that is motherhood. Try not to yell, or scream, or lose your temper. This time is too short to be unhappy. But if you do... forgive yourself, and move on. Nobody is perfect, and what you are doing is very hard. It's okay to fail and struggle.
You don't have to enjoy every minute of it. Changing dirty nappies is not fun. Cleaning is not fun. Rocking and cuddling upset children when your eyes are hanging out of your head is not fun. Chasing a cheeky toddler down the aisles of Target while holding a grumpy baby is not fun. But enjoy the good moments. And remember that the bad ones will be over soon, even though it doesn't feel like it.
Above all else..... Love them. Love them extravagantly. And remember this. So much of this is fleeting, even though at times it doesn't feel like it. But you will never get it back. Don't waste it. Embrace it. Own it. Don't let yourself get in the way of the joy that is being their Mummy.
In six years you can get to know a person really well.
It's been six years of weekly Mexican-meal-kit nights. It's been six years of watching him fall asleep on the couch, and he will go to bed 'in a minute'. It's been six years sleeping to his left. It's been six years of listening to his music. It's been six years of having him beside me, every step of the way. It's been six years of bickering, laughing, crying, swearing, rejoicing, loving, and being married.
And I continue to learn new things about him. He still has the ability to surprise me. I could get to know him better.
I am so glad that it has been six years. I hope there are sixty more.
Parenting is hard. I think most people can agree on that. It is beyond awesome at times, but there is also a lot of hard stuff thrown in.
The lack of sleep, feeding, disciplining.... there is so much hard. But you know what I think the hardest part I've found is?
Making a decision for your child... and not being sure that it was the best one you could have made.
Making decisions for your children is really difficult. I know there are going to be many decisions and choices I am going to have to make regarding my children. But this week is the first time when I've made a choice, a big choice with consequences my child will have to deal with, and I am not 100% certain that I made the right decision. I am terrified that I've done the wrong thing.
Most parents want the best for their kids. The decisions we make, while not always right, are almost always the choices that we think are right. Most parents always have the best intentions. But when there is a decision to make, and you are not sure what is right, what is best? That is so hard.
I am suffering from a major guilt overload at the moment. Some of it's real, but I know a lot of it is false guilt that I'm taking upon myself when I shouldn't be. I got told so many things about being a parent, but nobody ever told me how guilty I would feel.
I feel guilty. All of the time. About everything. I feel guilty when I neglect Georgie for Charlie, and vice versa. I feel guilty when I don't give Georgie healthy food to eat. I feel guilty that I'm not disciplining her as I should be- I seem to be letting so many thing slide lately. I feel guilty that I don't play with Georgie enough. I feel guilty that I let Charlie cry at times because I just can't get to him.
I feel guilty that my house just seems so filthy. I feel terrible that I'm not being the wife I want to be. I feel guilty when I spew forth the crazy at my husband, or lose my temper with my toddler. I feel so guilty that I just can't seem to cope and am constantly calling in for reinforcements. I should be able to cope, shouldn't I? After all it was my choice to have children. They are my responsibility, it's my job to care for them.
I think I need to take a breath. And remember it's only been two and a half weeks since I had a baby. I think it feels like it has been so much longer because these past two weeks have been so jam-packed, and Charlie seems like such a big boy. He is so alert and awake already, plus he is the size Georgie was at 6 weeks.
I just need to remember that really, I am doing okay. My kids are healthy and safe. My house may not be the cleanest its ever been, but it's not terrible either. It was always going to be hard. Parenting is not an easy job. And I always told myself that the first few months are all about survival. Things are really not that bad, I'm sure.
I just need to get a little perspective. And sleep.
We have been doing this song recently at church and I absolutely love it. It's easy to just live life and kind of put God on the backburner.... after all he doesn't clamour for our attention like small people. But at the moment I think I am being reminded how important it is to remember the fact that we serve a powerful, amazing, almighty God for whom nothing is impossible.
The lost are found
The blind will see
The lame will walk
The dead will live
And You Are God
Forever You will reign
The lost are found
The blind will see
The lame will walk
The dead will live
And You Are God
Forever You will reign
I am living the haze of the sleep-deprived, hormonal, moody, exhausted, slightly neurotic, just-had-a-baby, Mother. I have so much to do, and am so tired, and I should really be sleeping instead of sittting here at the computer. But I just wanted to say this:
I am beyond grateful. For these people, my people. Shane, Georgie and Charlie. My world is so small, but so precious. At times it feels like they are taking everything from me... but I wouldn't change this. It is absolutely priceless. These days, although they may be hard, are what it's all about.
I am so glad for what I have.
I am also so grateful for the people around me who are keeping me up. My husband, who is doing his best, even though he bears the brunt of my hormonal outbursts. My sisters, who are helping in so many ways. And my Mum. She is doing so much for our little family, and so much for me. I am so grateful for the Mother I was blessed with. I hope I can be such a Mother one day. She has just been taking care of me, in so many ways. I cannot thank her enough. Words just can't express it.
To everyone who is helping keep out little family going at the moment,
So where to start? I have so much to say and so much going on in my head that it's a little hard to get this all out coherently, but I'm going to try.
We are home. And I am so glad for that. I am so grateful that my little family is now a bit bigger. I am so glad that Georgie has been so good for her Daddy while I was gone. She hardly seemed to miss a beat, (which, I must admit, hurt a little) but I would much rather have her cope really well than really badly! She is fascinated by her little brother, and I can see all the little wheels turning inside her head trying to process how he fits with us. But for the most part, she is being a champion.
Charlie has been fantastic since we have been home. He has just been sleeping, and sleeping and sleeping. Which I'm finding a bit odd to be honest. But he hardly slept at all in hospital, so I think we are making up for it now. I am so glad that he is okay.
He is lovely. He is a very big boy. But it is big... not fat. He has huge hands and feet, and he is so long! He is well covered without being chubby and he is just absolutely delicious. He is in 000 clothes, but I don't think he will stay in them for long. He is the size Georgie was at about 8 weeks! I think he is going to be a big man like his Daddy.... it's odd to think of him towering over me one day! I look at him and can't believe that just a few days ago he fit in my tummy. He is feeding so well. It made such a nice surprise, because from the word go, he just seemed to know exactly what to do when it came to feeding.... such a change from Georgie who gave me so much trouble in the beginning. I am so grateful for that.
Shane is doing okay. He is terribly tired and is a bit stressed out between so much going on here and a lot going on at his work at the moment. But hopefully things can settle for him soon and he can relax a little.
I'm doing okay too. I have been pretty exhausted. The labour took a lot out of me this time. Plus, I didn't get very much sleep at all in the hospital. My body amazes me. It has bounced back quite well. I continue to be blown away by the way we are created. God is surely an amazing God. I am still sore, but I am loving the fact that I didn't need stitches after Charlie was delivered (a miracle!). My back has been quite painful, and I have to be careful as my tummy muscles have torn a bit, but hopefully with time everything will heal.
And the birth? That part I don't really want to talk about much. I had planned on recounting it all as I did with Georgie's. But honestly, I just want to block it out. Suffice to say it was probably the single most intensely painful experience in my life. It's funny, so many people have told me I have done an amazing job, but I just don't feel it. I feel a little odd now about the title of the last blog post. Because I actually don't feel that way at all. I just feel pretty awful about the whole thing. It wasn't all terrible, the beginning and the very end of the labour went well. But in the middle I felt totally helpless and lost and so incredibly vulnerable and I just don't want to remember any of it. I had a young midwife with me, who didn't have a lot of experience. I ended up trying to push even though I knew it didn't feel right when I was only dilated to 8 centimeters, and it took Shane taking control, making them check me, and then him calling my Mum to come in for things to get back to okay. Fortunately though, the delivery went very well.
I also ended up pretty shattered after being left alone with Charlie for almost all of the night after he was born. I hardly got any sleep for the first 3 nights and so I've been pretty exhausted. The whole experience has been a bit damaging. I didn't realise how wrong it all was, and how badly it affected me until talking about it with my sister Jenny, who is a nurse. She got very upset and angry about it, and said it should not have happened, and that helped. It made me feel better to know that it was not okay. But..... Charlie is here, he is perfect, and it is over. God has seen us through this and somehow he has managed to help me out with so many of the really important things. So I am grateful.
Charles arrived at 11:52pm on Tuesday night. He is doing very well and weighed 10 pounds 7 ounces (!) and was 54cm long. He was delivered naturally with no pain medication (!) and, (pause for effect) did no damage to his mother who is all kinds of shattered and proud and stunned and amazed and grateful. She has a thousand and one posts to write, and things to say, but for now is just being Mummy.
On Sunday night just as I went to bed at eleven I started having contractions. I lay on my bed for a while, but I was too excited and relieved that something was finally happening. So I ended up going and doing my dishes and then timing them while I watched a movie. They went from being ten minutes apart, to seven, then to five, and I thought 'hey this baby might be really coming!' I went and had a shower and then poof! they stopped. So at four in the morning I went back to bed very frustrated.
And then ended up having a really great day.
You see, I've been talking for ages about painting a feature wall in our lounge room. I just thought a green wall would be really nice. But Shane wasn't really in it. After painting our whole house before Georgie was born, the last thing he wanted to do was re-paint a wall. (He's very practical like that). But then over the Christmas break, everyone in my family has been painting. And Shane suddenly went 'It wouldn't be that hard to paint a wall.'
So he took Georgie out for the morning so I could nap, and then came back at lunchtime, and while she slept, he painted the wall green.
Sometimes I really do love him.
I just loves it. I can't wait to hang some pictures up soon!
I'm linking this up with Jess at Diary of a SAHM, cause it's Tuesday, and I blog on Tuesdays!
I'll also link up with Karlee at The Mother Experiment, for Me and You Mondays because I'm linking in with My New Years Resolution.... and this year my resolution is to make things pretty. This past year I haven't really been doing too much to our house. I've been tackling the general cleaning and household tasks, but I haven't been very motivated. And I want to like my house. I want to love the space where I spend most of my time. So I have decided that this year I am going to try to do more than just keep the house clean and tidy. I am going to work on making things pretty and nice.
And no, no baby yet.... but I will let you know when there is! I am ten days overdue now, but had a checkup with the obstetrician today and am already 3 centimeters dilated, so it can't be too long now..... can it?
