Mama needs to get more organised

This morning started with an unexpected knock at the door. Turns out that in my wisdom, I had booked the pest man to come and spray our house. Which would have been great, if only I'd remembered that I'd booked the pest man to come spray our house.

Having someone arrive on your doorstep, ready to go through your house when you are in your pajamas and are in the middle of making muffins for playgroup, the dishes are not washed, the floor is covered in toys, and the house smells like *somebody has just soiled themselves, is akin to having about 5 shots of coffee.

I ever so politely and calmly asked him to do the yard first, and then moved faster than I would have thought possible. Roughly half an hour later, with two shaken children and my house looking like something sad and terrible had been poorly concealed, we collapsed in a heap at playgroup.

And the moral of this story is I **may need to get a bit more organised.

So, how was your morning?

 

*not me, of course
**and by may I mean most definitely

What is the point of you?

A couple of months ago, we were at my Mum's house with family, and Georgie was playing with her cousin Hamish, who is four years old. Or, to put it more correctly, Georgie was following Hamish around, getting into his things and just generally annoying him as only a toddler can. Hamish eventually got so frustrated with her that he exclaimed "Georgie, what's the point of you!?" It was quite funny, and we all laughed. But lately I feel like that question is just hanging over me.

"What is the point of you?'

At times I feel like I am a less valuable member of society because I am 'just' a Mum, and I don't work. I feel like I don't contribute, don't really add anything to the world. Instead I feel that to the rest of the world, we stay at home mums are the toddlers of society. Not good for much, except for whining and complaining and getting in the way, and they have no idea how much they are looked after or how good their lives are. I don't know how much of it comes from the image of the 'stay at home mum' that is perpetuated by the media, and how much of it comes from my own feelings, but... it gets to me.

When you think about it really, what is the problem with Mothers? I must admit that at times I read blogs where women who are Mums speak about their struggles with depression, with motherhood, and you almost get a little desensitized to it, you know? I understand why people poke fun at Mummy bloggers. I know before I had kids I used to hear so much about how hard it is to be a mother.... and though I'd never admit it, in the back my mind I was a little like 'Really?' It's a bit of 'Oh your poor rich woman with too much food so you worry about being fat, with your beautiful home and healthy children.... it must be so hard for you to live.' (insert sarcastic tone here)

But here's the thing. It is hard. At times being a stay at home Mother is the hardest thing I have ever done. It's not like I have the stress of being in charge of a huge multi-national corporation, and sometimes I do get to hang out with my friends and drink coffee. But at the same time, often it is so incredibly mind-numbingly dull.
 
I love my children, so much it hurts sometimes. But I don't love the mess they make. I don't love washing the same dishes, cleaning the same toilet, washing and folding the same clothes, mopping the same floor, making the same beds, feeding, changing nappies, fighting the same fights.... every damn day.

And it's not necessarily the everyday tasks in themselves that get to you. After all, cleaning is a part of life. But it's the fact that it feels like the sum of those tasks, is are all you are worth. The feeling that you're not good for anything else. Plus, having children really messes with your mind. The constant worry, the responsibility, the pressure. It never stops.

Why does he throw tantrums? Is she too attached? Will this house ever be clean? Sleep (oh sleep!) Are they growing enough, eating enough, eating too much? Is she talking? Will she ever stop talking? Do my kids watch too much TV? Are we playing enough? Reading enough? Will they be ready for school?  Will they make friends? What if they don't make good friends? What if they do drugs?  Dear God, what if I don’t get my kid into a good enough school and my child ends up being a creepy forty year old man who still lives with his mother? 

I want my life to mean more. Be more. I don't want the fact that I got all my folding done, or enjoyed a really great cup of coffee to be the highlight of my day. But, this is a season. I will not always be the Mother of small children. This particular hard will not always be my hard.

So it's true. Mothers do complain and moan and go on and on about the difficulty of Motherhood. We probably do act like toddlers at times. And yes, it gets a bit much.... our constant outpouring of thoughts and feelings that all say the same thing. I get that. But, we don't do it forever. And in the meantime, we are still important members of society. Even though we live in a world that constantly devalues children and the raising of them, this, raising tiny people, is valuable. And if blogging and talking and writing and communicating about it all, helps get Mums through the day, then it matters.

Like walking through thick, thick, mud

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.

[Please don't take a picture]

Yesterday was just bad.



Today has been, will be... better.


Linking up with Diary of a SAHM for I blog on Tuesdays.

{Grateful for the small things}

This morning has been all kinds of stupid.

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.

The hardest part....

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.

Linking up with Glowless for Flog Yo Blog Friday.

Thinking just makes my head all hurty

I have a confession.

I sometimes really struggle with the fact that I never finished University.

I went to Uni straight after school to complete my Bachelor of Education. I lasted a year and a half. I don't really know why it is such an issue for me sometimes. Because I honestly do not want to be a teacher. I think about it from time to time, and the answer's always no, I don't want to teach.

Yet it still sits badly.

I quit Uni for a few reasons. Shane and I had just gotten married and it would have been really handy for me to be earning some decent money, I was tired of study. I didn't feel like I fitted in at all at Uni, because I was young, but married, and just didn't really find my tribe. But I know none of that would have mattered if I'd really wanted to teach. But I didn't. Not enough anyway.

I love children. But I was studying a degree that would have enabled me to teach children from grades 1-10. And when on prac I realised that I really don't like older children. It's not like I hate them or anything, but once kids hit about grade 4 or so, I just find them so much harder work. (Plus, you know, you have to know stuff to teach them)

So I ended up getting a job in childcare and found that I loved it. I ended up in a babies room, and it was great. I discovered that I really enjoy the early childhood years. Yes, they are hard in some respects. But in others they are so easy.

Nonetheless. I still feel a little less... worthy, or something because I didn't get that piece of paper.

I don't really understand it. I don't think any less of people who haven't gone to University. And I know plenty of people who have a University degree and they have done nothing with it. I know there are lots of people who have studied and studied for years, but they still haven't lived.  I know that a degree doesn't mean a person has wisdom or common sense. Some of the best people I know don't have a bunch of letters behind their name.

But still.

I've considered going back to Uni. But why? To study what? I don't just want to study for the sake of a degree. I don't see the point in studying something unless you want to, unless there is an end goal in sight. I still don't want to teach. I don't really want to go back to childcare either. It was great, but it was also a very demanding job, physically and emotionally.... for not much reward. Motherhood beats it by a mile. Maybe that will change when my own children grow up, but I don't know. And as much as I love the idea of being a high-powered career woman. I don't really want that life either. I think I'd be quite happy to stay at home with my kids for as long as I'm able, and then when the time comes go work in a job in retail, or in an office that doesn't demand too much of me, so I can still make my family my top priority.

I don't see anything wrong with that. Really I don't.

But at the same time I do. I can't put my finger in it. I never would have imagined being here now when I was at school. I wasn't the brightest crayon in the box, but I did okay. I won some awards, I used my brain. This isn't what I envisioned my life to be like. Married at 18? Having children young? I guess I thought, like most people that all that kind of thing would just happen after I'd lived a bit first. I never imagined that the first boy I dated would be the one I would marry. But I am so glad it was. I wouldn't want to change my life even if I could. I am really happy the way it it is. Sometimes it's more work than I thought possible. But it's so right, you know?

I wish I understood how you can feel so many different conflicting things at once. I wish there was more of a road-map to life. I wish being a grown-up was as easy as I thought it was when I was a kid. Part of me feels a little cheated because I'm only 23 and I feel like I'm 30. I feel like I am living like my Mum and Dad already. I want to be young and beautiful. I want to stay out late and party and dress up. I'm scared of turning into an old lady before I've been young.

But at the same time. I wouldn't change this. I love my life. My family. They make everything worth it. I just wish I wasn't plagued with doubt all the time about the choices I've made.

I just shouldn't get all introspective. It makes my head hurt. Just live one day at a time Robyn!

Do you get what I'm trying to say here? Do you feel the same way? Or are you one of the clever people who did everything perfectly? (Do those people even exist???)


Linking up with Jess at Diary of a SAHM for IBOT :)

Deep thoughts....

I'm just feeling a little rotten tonight. (Gah.... how often do I preface a blog post with that, or something like it?)

But today has been hard work. Shane was on Communion at church, plus he was playing drums, so he was there early and had all that added stress. Then I realised that I was on the roster for morning tea, so I made brownies which were a dismal failure, and consequently was very late for church, only arriving in time to hear the last part of his Communion message, plus I slipped in the shower and hurt my back. But I honestly am trying to keep myself from having a bit of a pity party. It just feels tough being a Mummy sometimes. You're the last priority.

I'm hesitant to write too much stuff about my marriage and Shane here, because (a) this blog is read by people who know us, (b) I think it's not really that fair to write about a relationship when you only have one side of the story and the other person has no opportunity to speak their piece and (c) I make it a general rule to only speak good about him. I will let him know when I am unhappy- sometimes I do that too much! But I feel that men get enough trouble poured on them in the world without having the one person who is supposed to love them running them down, and really is there anything worse than hearing a wife talk about how bad she thinks her husband is?

So as a result I keep fairly quiet, or else I only try to talk about the good things. But then I was thinking, is that necessarily right either? I want this blog to be accurate. I am trying to make a bit of a record for my children, (with an added dash of therapy for me)... but I don't want to make it seem like everything's peachy all the time either. Because I hate it when we try to paint everything as perfect, when it just isn't.

Side note: I've noticed it seems to be very hard for people (me included) to just tell it how it is. We either exaggerate the good and downplay the bad, or else we magnify the bad and minimize the good... why is that?

On the other hand, I don't want to air out my dirty laundry here either.

But, marriage is hard. Relationships are tough. I think I'm just finding the whole stay-at-home Mum thing a bit difficult at the moment. It's hard, not earning money. I don't know why earning money matters so much, but I am amazed at how hard it feels not to. Plus it doesn't help that I am not the money-earner, yet I seem to be the money-spender. Not that Shane ever really tries to make me feel this, but I still do.

It's also hard being pregnant. I think I'm just a little all over the place at the moment, and I am so, so tired. I just want someone to take care of me. I must admit, I just feel like Shane doesn't really care about my pregnancy or what's going on with me right now. I know it's not true, and I know that he probably could wait on me hand and foot right now and I'd still be unhappy. Plus he is dealing with a lot at the moment too. But still, between Georgie being an extra handful lately, me trying to organise things for the baby, plus trying to adjust my diet and get in more exercise just in case I do have gestational diabetes, and the general cooking, cleaning and everything that comes with being a wife and a Mum... I just feel like doing my best Shannon Noll impression [What about meeeee?]

I think this parenting gig can also be tough when there is one parent who does so much of the primary parenting. Shane works 14 hours most days, he's not home every night. Some nights he only sees Georgie for 15 minutes before she goes to bed. So when he has a weekend off (like he has this weekend) he sometimes watches some of my parenting practices with.... trepidation. Which bugs the heck out of me.

I must admit, my style of parenting is pretty laid-back. But in my defense it has to be. I cannot watch Georgie every minute of the day because I would go insane. Also, I have things to do. It is impossible for me to have a shower, clean, cook, blog etc while watching her at all times. So she does roam the house pretty freely. I have made the general area of the house very, very kid-safe so that she can. I am also more of a 'wait and see how she goes and see if she really needs help before I step in' kind of parent. Georgie has not hurt herself badly (yet) and she is quite cautious. I would probably be less laid-back with a different child, but I know Georgie and her capabilities and she is pretty okay most of the time. So when Shane makes comments on my practices, it's hard not to get my back up.

But tonight, after a few cranky words and me having a good cry. I was thinking. Who takes care of Shane? I am constantly wanting him to take care of me, but it does work both ways. I feel like I am giving and giving, but maybe I need to watch myself a bit more. And yes, I do 'do' a lot. But with what attitude? Because honestly, sometimes when people do things for me with a huge air of sacrifice, I'd rather they just not bother. Am I guilty of that with my husband?

When was the last time I tried to enjoy him? I don't mean little moments of gratefulness and joy. But actual, long-lasting contentment. Granted he is imperfect. But it's not up to me to change him. And have I been looking to him for more than he can give?

I think Hollywood is responsible for so much of our screwiness (yes that is a word. a good one). There is nothing more romantic than that scene in Jerry McGuire when Tom Cruise says "You complete me." Don't you just melt a little? But really, it's a load of codswallop. You look to another person to complete you and you just won't end up whole. Maybe I've been relying on Shane a little too much to fix things, when in fact is he is just another messed-up person like me who is incapable of making it better?

God is the only one who can complete. I need to be turning to him a little more. Granted, it's hard. I don't know about you, but sometimes it feels a bit... useless to me, turning to God. (Oh Lord, I am a bad Christian). But honestly, that's how I feel. Sometimes it feels like you can turn to God only to get a great big fat nothing in response. But maybe I'm doing it wrong? Maybe too often, I am telling God how to fix things, telling him exactly what I want. Not asking for his help. He will give what I need. His ways are not my ways [Isaiah 55:8] He may not give the way I want him to, but He will give in ways that are lasting. His waters are those that will quench all thirst. [John 4:14]

Yep. Need to remember this stuff.

So, bottom line, Shane could probably do more. But marriage is hard, and I am not responsible for what he does. I am responsible for what I do though, and I need to watch my own attitude and make sure I am looking after him as well. I also need to look to God to fix my problems a little more instead of Shane. I wish I just already inherently knew all this stuff sometimes...  I seem to learn so slow!

Insert swear word here....

Image found here

 Today has been one of those days.

Today has been one of those days when you wake up to a dog tap, tap, tapping on your door letting you know it needs to go outside. Early. Then when you walk over to open the blinds, congratulating yourself on the fact that you let the dog out before she had an accident on the floor, you step in a puddle in the kitchen. You then glare at the other dog (who is not yours!) sitting in it's bed, watching you.

Today has been one of those days when you think, 'Oh well, since the baby is still asleep and I've started off badly, I'll make myself a poached egg for breakfast. That ought to cheer me up" Then, as you're sitting down in front on the computer about to catch up on your social media addiction with your egg on toast and cup of tea, you knock over your plate and tip said egg on the floor. On the white carpeted floor. Sunny side down. And you like your eggs runny. Side note: who the hell invented white carpet? I would like to kick both the person who invented white carpet, and the person who owned this house before us and bought white carpet!

Then, as you sit down to breakfast a second time, the baby wakes up.

Today is one of those days when you have playgroup on, and you'd really really like to stay home and just seethe, except, you have the key and the toys for playgroup. So staying at home isn't an option.

Today is one of those days when the dishes which were piling up yesterday, (and you were going to do them but bed was a better option) have somehow reached astronomical proportions today. It is a day when your house looks like a brothel (coincidentally, I've always wondered about that expression. I've never actually seen a brothel, but I would imagine that they can't be that dirty)

Today is one of those days when you are so grumpy at the world you just want to go back to bed, a day when you count the hours until your baby will go down for her nap because all day she crawls around the house making a noise like a grumpy, hungry calf, a day when you just want to go outside and yell and scream really loudly.

A day when the best thing that can be said about it, is that it will be over.

What have you been up to lately?

If there's one question I hate, that's it.

I hate it when you run into an old friend or acquaintance from pre-baby days, and you do the whole "Haven't seen you in ages, How are you going, Isn't she cute?..... What have you been up to lately?" routine.

Hate it.

Because I can't exactly put my finger on why, but I always feel kind of... unworthy, for want of a better term.

I just feel so... negative, when I get the dreaded question, and reply "Oh, I'm staying at home with Georgie at the moment, and she's keeping me pretty busy!" I just feel like I watch people's interest plummet. And I feel like they are thinking, 'Is that all?"

I don't know if it comes from them or me. I honestly don't think that I think that there is anything wrong with staying at home with my children- I am so glad that I can do it! But at the same time, something about it just feels like it is a lesser choice in the eyes of the world, you know?

Before I had Georgie, when I got the question and I told people about my job, they would ask more questions, I would elaborate.... and yet it was still about kids! I worked in childcare, so I was still doing very similar tasks to the ones I am doing now, but for some reason it didn't seem to isolate me the way being a stay at home Mummy does.

Maybe it does come from me, but at the same time you hardly want to go into details about the endless cleaning, cooking, playing, bathing, sleeping cycle, do you?  But the fact is, at the moment, that is an awful lot of my life. I have a baby, I'm growing another one. It's what I am at the moment.

But why does it feel so much less than if somebody just talks about their job?

Maybe I am just being overly-sensitive, maybe this stems from my feelings of inadequacy as a Mother. It does rankle a little sometimes that I am not earning anything. I wonder what is it about earning money that validated me? Or maybe it just comes from the fact that when I was working, I wasn't just working. I went to the gym, I was involved in local performing arts productions occasionally- my life was so much fuller (and yet, so, so much more empty).

Maybe these feeling will go away in time. But it's been a year of being a Mummy, and so far the feelings are still there. So, questions. If you are a stay at home Mum, do you feel this way too? Will these feelings ever go away or do they linger like a bad smell? And, do you think that this comes from society, and it's perception of stay at home Motherhood, or us?

It's my pity-party and I'll moan if I want to

I am feeling so very sick at the moment.

I'm in throes of disgusting morning sickness. But this time around it's very different. With Georgie, the sickness hit me at around 8 weeks, lasted till 14 weeks, and I was sick every night. I would get home from work at 6, talk to the toilet bowl for a while, and then be reasonably okay. It was yuck, but it was manageable and predictable.

But this time, I am feeling gross an awful lot. I am not actually being sick that often, but when I am it comes on very quickly and suddenly (like in church on Sunday which was just all kinds of fun!). I am really off sweet foods, and just feeling sorry for myself in general.

Last pregnancy, I also had pelvic girdle pain. It started in the second trimester and lasted through until around 36 weeks, but then magically disappeared when Georgie was born. But it's already started again, and I'm only 11 weeks along! And it just really hurts. I've been to the physio and she put it back in, but it only lasted a day, and I just cannot afford to go do that all the time.

Plus, I am coming down with a cold. And as you know, I can't take much to help myself on that front. So I'm trying to drown it with honey and lemon tea.

It's just really tough.

All I want is to be a little girl at home, tucked up in bed reading, with my Mummy taking care of me. Mum always used to bring me hot, sweet black tea and toast with honey when I was sick. And dammit, tea and toast don't taste the same when you have to make it yourself!

Right now I'm about to go put my big girl pants on and go clean the house. I'm sorry for being such a whiny-face, but it is nice to get it out! But before I go, I'm asking, what did your Mummy used to do for you when you were home sick, and also, any cold remedies that worked for you while pregnant?

“Danger, Will Robinson!”

In the next couple of weeks I will be operating without a safety net. Shane is working away and Mum and Dad have gone away for (a very much needed) holiday. But I am very scared. I know many people deal with husbands away much more than I do, and they do it without a close family network too! But I am just very used to being able to collapse in a heap with my Mummy when I need to when Shane's not around. So I am really not looking forward to this.

I don't want my blog to be a place of negativity and woe. But, it is where I get my words out, and at the moment, they are weary.

I am trying hard to see the good, to stop myself from getting too down, from catching myself before I fall. But it is hard. And I am just so, so tired. All I want is to sleep for a hundred years. (I am so jealous of that princess right now).

I've just had one of the hardest weeks with Georgie ever. She has had a viral bug that has given her temperatures, an upset tummy and a heck of a lot of grumpiness. But I think we are just about out the other side now. It's been especially rough because Shane has just been away for a couple of weeks, he had one weekend off and we didn't really get to enjoy it because Georgie was sick and miserable, and he was sick too. And now he is back at work for goodness know how long.

But, I am going to get through this. Even if it's just one second, one minute, one hour, one day, at a time.

We love each other. Life is really not that bad and things will not always be this way.

And at the moment I think this is my mantra.


There is a time for everything,
   and a season for every activity under the heavens:  a time to be born and a time to die,
   a time to plant and a time to uproot,
 a time to kill and a time to heal,
   a time to tear down and a time to build,
 a time to weep and a time to laugh,
   a time to mourn and a time to dance,
 a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
   a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
 a time to search and a time to give up,
   a time to keep and a time to throw away,
 a time to tear and a time to mend,
   a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
   a time for war and a time for peace.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8.

I just have to remember that this is just a time.

the taste of grey...

There is an old lady who lives down the road from me. She has lived in that house for as long as I can remember. Every afternoon she and her dog, Rosie go for a walk. Rosie doesn't need a leash. They always walk the same path. Two slow moving figures at the exact same time, every day.

I long for that kind of predictability. For routine. Yet at the same time, the idea of it makes me feel stifled, claustrophobic.



I don't want to whine or moan. I hate it when you read from other people's perspectives and it's all doom and gloom and negativity. Most of the time I think of myself as an optimist. But today has just been.... awful.

I miss Shane. But it's not just that. Georgie has been quite grumpy, and every time she has gone to sleep the dogs have woken her up with her barking, or the phone has rung. I've been tired (exhausted!). But it's not even all that. It's just a general pervading greyness that has hovered around and oozed over me all day.

I have not done a single productive thing. The house looks exactly the same as it did this morning- maybe even messier. I have been a grumpy, horrible, fishwife all day. And I hate that, you know? I hate that all day Georgie has been around a grumpy person. I don't want my baggage to colour her world. I know it has to, to some extent. You simply can't help that if you love. But I don't like it when I let my baggage become all-consuming.

I am just so tired of my life. I want routine. I want to be able to look at the clock in the afternoon and be able to think, 'Shane will be home in X amount of hours'. And even when he's home, we never get that. There's always work to do. Time off is rarely completely time off. There's a blessing and a curse of working in a family business and working within a disorganised, chaotic industry. But I want to look forward to weekends and make plans. I want to be able to look forward to things with certainty instead of hope. Far too often we don't make concrete plans because we just don't know if we're going to be able to keep them. We say, might, or should, or hope to. Not yes.

Now please, don't judge me. I know I'm having a pity party, but I am allowed to! I promise I am trying to get out of this soon. And I know there are so many people who are dealing with issues that are so, so much bigger and harder than this. But right now, for me? This is my hard. We all have our own problems. And no, there is nothing we can do. This is it for the next couple of years at least. I'm really not trying to make people feel sorry for me either. But I just want to get this out, your know? And I'd like to know if we're not alone. If anyone else has to deal with this kind of thing?

Because right now, it's just not fair.

A little whinge, and then I'll be grateful...

Georgie is still sick. She had an ear infection, but seems to be getting over it now. However, now she seems to have developed a bit of a rash from the medication- but we've been to the Doctor and she should be okay. As for me- still getting by. But seriously, is it just me, or is life really, really, really, hard right now? The baby's sick, the dog's sick, I have a pile of folding to do the size of Mount Everest, it's raining and there has been a mouse living in my dryer so I can't use it because clothes come out smelling of mouse wee, (it's on Shane's to-do list) we're having fun new problems with our power (we're hoping that's an Ergon problem though, and therefore up to them to fix it).... but lately, we seem to be lurching from one disaster to another!

Really though, I shouldn't complain... I know things are hard, but I also know many others are dealing with much bigger problems than me right now. Even though everything seems too difficult and things feel like they are going wrong left right and center- they're really not that bad. So here are a few pictures of a couple of things that are going very right...

It's starting to get cold and we're going camping in a few weeks so I put
little Miss in her coat to see if it would fit.

It's a bit big- but she is so very very cute!

I have a pretty good husband. He's seen me struggling a fair bit
recently and went and helped me out! (without even being asked!)

A post in which I am completely stripped of my dignity, bravery and sanity... (and will probably be sued by PETA)

I am girl.

I don't do mice or rats or grasshoppers or spiders.

That's why I have a husband.

And I'm fine with that.

But my husband works away. And some days it is beyond crap. Like today. Last night he came home for one night. (One night out of like, the past million that he has been away) But Georgie is sick and did not want to go to sleep and then I burned dessert, because I was too busy trying to put Georgie to sleep. It was just all bad my friends, I'm telling you.

It's funny, I was actually pretty angry with God about the whole thing- going "Why!? Why!? When we only have one night and he works away and it's not fair and some women don't even appreciate their husbands! When you could have had Georgie sleep and we could have had time together!" I swear, if I could have, I would have punched God in the face. I was one angry angry ant.

But then, after we had (finally) gotten Georgie to sleep and were completely exhausted and had two minutes together before Shane had to go to bed. I was reminded. He is not a genie. He does not automatically give us what we want. Just what we need.

It still sucked though.

But anyway, back to the story.

So this morning, I woke up with Shane at four in the morning (yes, I know!) and made his lunch and had a cup of coffee with him and said goodbye and then he left at five to be back out at work by six. I was about to head back to bed because Georgie was (amazingly) still asleep.

And then a mousetrap went off.

Now look I'm not a complete sook, I will deal with mice in traps. I hate doing it, but I can. But this mouse didn't get caught in the trap. Not all of him anyway. Not the bits that mattered.

The poor thing was screeching and squealing with his legs half crushed in the trap. So I decided to try to hit it. I would have been fine with just letting it go if it was alright, but this thing had a broken leg, I couldn't just leave it. So I picked up a poker from the fireplace and tried to whack it. I managed to whack the trap instead and the mouse got free. Panicking, it ran away from me, but it couldn't run properly so it was doing a mad half-run, half slide. Then it hid behind a table. I tried to whack it again and hit the mark this time but when the poker connected with the little mouse body I felt horridly sick and decided I just couldn't do it.

I walked past Chloe, who was cowering in a corner and hissed ' You are not a dog!' and then rang Shane who was about half an hour away by this point, in tears, begging him to come home. He was unfortunately, unable to oblige. (I am so sick of him being away) I discussed the idea of drowning it with him and he said that sounded like a good idea. Muttering "this is not my job!" I hung up the phone and filled up a bucket of water in the laundry and picked up the tongs from the fireplace to try to pick up the wounded mouse.

 The wounded mouse suddenly decided that it felt much better and started running away, so I chased it and managed to corner the damn thing behind a wooden box. Then I went 'what the hell do I do now?'. So I tried maniacally waving the poker at it from one side of the box so that it would run out the other side. This was not very effective. Then I tried to move the box out from the wall and the mouse hid behind a piece of paper behind the box. So I (being the intelligent being that I am) got the bright idea of throwing something heavy on it and squishing it.

I picked up one of Shane's big biblical commentaries and threw it on said mouse. It did not hit said mouse very accurately but did manage to trap it's lower body. Then I picked up a heavy bible and threw it as well. This was more effective and squished the mouse. So then, in tears and feeling like the most horrible person in the world, I watched the mouse make it's last pathetic little bids for freedom while it lay dying.

Once the mouse was very dead. I tried to scoop it up with the a dustpan, and had carried it partway to the door when the mouse gave one final death twitch. I got a fright and flung the mouse in the air, then it landed on the floor, and smudged a teeny bit of blood from it's crushed internal organs on the tile. I decided I could not face the thought of getting close enough to it to scoop it up again and swept it the rest of the way out the door and into the garden.

Then I collapsed in a big heap on the floor and cried.
 
And now, since I feel so sick and shattered, I cannot go to sleep, so I will sit on my chair and wait for Georgie (who, amazingly enough, slept through the ruckus) to wake up, and surf the internet to read other women's mouse stories and make myself feel much better.

All this before 6am.

It's going to be a great day.



Note: This one's going in FlogYoBlog Friday's over at  Glowless's joint!

Mummy: learn

Today I am participating in FlogYoBlog Friday over at Glowless's and I am reminding myself...




1. It is so worth it to take 5 minutes out, and pat my child to sleep, even though I might be grumpy because I want to go eat dinner before it gets cold for once. Because 5 minutes of patting with an hour of sleeping is so much better, than no patting and 10 minutes of screaming, followed by an hour of patting.

2. It is ALWAYS a good idea to check on my child when I am sitting on the computer (something that takes 15 seconds out of my day) and she is crawling around in the living area, because, when I think about checking her and don't, she will have tipped the dog's water all over the floor and herself, which will then result in a good 15  minutes of cleaning.

3. Sometimes, when the baby is tired, sick and upset, it is okay to blow off playgroup/coffee dates/catching up/walking, because most of the time people will understand, and neither you or your child are going to have a good time if you go out anyway.

4. It is okay to put a screaming baby down, walk away and then burst into tears sometimes. It is definitely much better than screaming in said baby's face.

5. When your child is sick and your husband is away and you are just not coping, it's okay to be kind to yourself and bring your child to bed, you probably both need it.

6. Even when she bites the crap out of you and makes you bleed, breastfeeding is still the best possible nutrition for your child.

7. Even though you sometimes feel like she is sent to torment and torture you... she is still your baby girl and she really loves you. You are the most important person in the world to her.

8. Blogging is very good medicine.

9. Some days it's okay to go back to bed instead of tackling your housework. Even when your house looks like something sad and terrible has died and you have a pile of laundry as big as Everest.


And finally,


10. God is not a mean kid with a magnifying glass, with you as a tiny ant screaming 'We're all gonna die!!' even when it feels like it. He's really not.

Validation

Today things are really hard. You know what I'm finding awfully difficult at the moment? A lack of.... validation. I feel like so much of what I do is so- nothing.

I always thought that being a Mother was such an important job, and I still do think that. But it's amazing how much better the simple fact that I was being paid made me feel. It validated me. It's funny, because I always used to say that working in childcare wasn't about the money (because we were paid peanuts). And I honestly didn't think it was. But there's still something about going to work every day, talking to people about what you are doing, having people tell you what a good job you are doing, and seeing what a good job you are doing. Now, I just feel so insignificant and ineffectual. One more grain of sand on an endless beach.

Also, I was good at working in Childcare. I was good at dealing with sixteen children a day, and I really enjoyed it. I knew exactly what to do, we had a solid routine, I was in control, in charge, I took great care of those children, I could deal with problems and- I was really good at what I did. Now, I feel like I'm just doing the best I can, surviving. I just want to be good at something.

I knew, going into Motherhood, that this was not going to be easy. I thought I'd be okay because I knew better than most how hard it was going to be. It wasn't like I was unprepared. I had a sister who had 4 children, I had worked with babies, toddlers, preschoolers. I knew about kids. I knew about the sleepless nights, I knew about the difficulty of washing and cleaning and cooking. I knew that being a Mummy is a difficult, thankless task. But I didn't really know until I did it, you know?

I guess I thought I'd have more answers. Maybe I thought there was something magic about motherhood, as you gave birth all this wisdom would just magically appear... and suddenly I would be one of those hallowed fountains of knowledge 'A Mummy'. And I'd know about sick children and eating and breastfeeding and how warm should a baby be in bed..... but I didn't. In fact the further I go along in this the less I think I know.

I hate that I feel like I'm just stumbling my way along in this. I try to act like I know what I'm doing so no-one will see the cracks. But I just keep falling apart. Little, stupid things, make me feel so overwhelmed. I'm just so tired of everything and I long for a change. I'm really tired, but I can't sleep at night. It's stupid, I'll be exhausted all day, and then as night comes, I seem to get more and more alert. And so by 9pm, I'm buzzing. I generally can't sleep until at least 11pm. And I have a baby who sleeps. She sleeps really well by most standards. She's asleep right now- and I should be too. But I can't. I have to let my mind get this out.

I really don't want to admit it, but I've got this horrible fear in the back of my mind that I'm dealing with Post-Natal-Depression. And I'm just so scared of that. I don't want to go to a Doctor and be medicated.  I was so sure that I'd be okay. And I don't want to depressed. And sometimes I don't think I am. I'm not sad all the time, sometimes I can still be happy and be fine. I don't want to hurt Georgie... or myself. I love her too much to do that to her, but I just feel like crap that I'm not a better Mum to her.

I've got all these great people around me that I know I could turn to- and I do... to some degree. Shane is doing the absolute best he can, and I know that. He is doing really well as a husband and a Father. But he's not the problem. I am. And I don't want people to fix this for me, or take this burden away. I want to be able to be okay with this.... But mostly I just want to sleep. Or run away. I feel like I've lost me.

It just never, ever, stops, you know? I miss having set hours, having routine, being able to stop because I've done enough. Lately I just feel like it's never enough. I'm never enough. I know I need things to get better. I want to be happier. I want to be more disciplined and more on track and in control. But the mountain just feels too big to climb at the moment. So someone, please, just tell me that things will get better. Could you please tell me that this too shall pass? Show me the light at the end of the tunnel.

You don't wear my chains

Everyone has problems. Some are enormous and some are not.  The young guy who goes to your church tried to commit suicide four years ago. That married couple you know that just seem to have life so easy? The husband is addicted to porn. That man who you see at the coffee shop has insomnia. Those people down the street who always smile and wave? She suffered from post-natal depression. These old people? They could never have children. That perky teenager at the local takeaway store? She cuts herself. That teacher who goes on all those holidays all the time? She wants to get married but her boyfriend doesn't. That woman with the three beautiful children? Her mother is sick. That man who is always on stage with the local performing arts society is constantly questioning his own worth. The beautiful woman who you see at playgroup and whose husband sings so well and seems to adore her? They are struggling to make ends meet.  That woman over on the other line at the supermarket? She struggled with anorexia as a teenager. That moody pre-teen has a father who has just left and she thinks it's her fault. And maybe some people are just struggling with life in general.



It's easy to look at people and think they've got it all together. But how well do we really know those around us? We don't share everything. Sometimes we don't need to. But at the same time, don't judge another person based on the tiny bit you know about them.

Often I get quite frustrated because, (living in my home town especially) I am surrounded by so many people who know me. They've seen me grow up, or they know my family, or they are my family- and therefore they make their judgments on me based on what they know. But we don't know everything. You don't know people's innermost secrets. You don't know what's going on in someone's mind.

I struggle with my self worth many days. I have trouble looking in the mirror sometimes. Many nights my husband comes home and I torture him with my behaviours, for no good reason- simply because he's there. As a  teenager I had huge problems with my body image and struggled on the brink of bulimia in my final year of school. I had problems with friends and social interaction sometimes at school and spent many of my childhood days hiding in the library or in the toilets. I worry some days that I have post-natal depression (I don't think it's possible not to have your first child and not struggle with PND on some level). And that's just a fraction of what is in my head.

This is not to be all doom and gloom and say 'Oh look at me, isn't my life hard? Feel sorry for me!' Life is not all pain and difficulty. But I am trying to say; Look at me, I have GREAT family support, and many of my life lessons have been relatively easy. So if I struggle like this, how much more might others?

You can't tell who people are just by looking at them. Now I know that there's some horrible things that happen to people. Many people have been dealt terribly unfair blows. And some of us are just dealing with the little everyday things that come our way. But people's problems are just that. Their problems. We all struggle with something. But regardless, I just think that we shouldn't judge books by a few pages.

Anton Chekhov, you never spoke a truer word.

 

Any idiot can face a crisis - it's day to day living that wears you out. 

~Anton Chekhov

You know which bible character I have great respect for at the moment? Jacob. He may have been a bit of a bad guy- (you know, with the whole birthright stealing thing) but, man, he knew about perseverance!

For those of you who don't know the story, basically Jacob loved and wanted to marry a woman named Rachel. But her father said that he had to work for him for seven years before he could. Jacob did, but then, on the night of the wedding, her Father gave Jacob Rachel's sister, Leah instead. Jacob didn't notice this until the next morning (EPIC fail!). When he went to the Father and said "What gives?" He was told he could have Rachel as well if he worked for another seven years. And he did.

Now, I don't know about you, but this story really makes me think. Jacob worked fourteen years, to marry the woman he loved. Fourteen years! I think if you asked most men to wait fourteen years before they could marry the woman they loved (and work for her Dad too no less!) you'd be told where you could go in no uncertain terms. Heck, most married couples these days are lucky to last that long! But Jacob did it.

He isn't the best, or the brightest bible character. He did some pretty dodgy things, and I know that there are many other more honourable people in the bible. But right now, for me, I'm remembering Jacob. 

It's hard not to get bogged down in the mundane, the everyday. I think, that in many ways, it's actually easier to face hardship and crisis. But when you're doing the same thing, day in, day out- life can get pretty tough. So I think Jacob is a good example to us all, that sometimes you've just got to suck it up, and stick it out (I know that sounds so wrong, but just go with it okay?). Even though it may seem like forever when you're going through hard times. 

Now don't get me wrong, I do agree with those who say 'Life's too short to do something you hate'... to a point. But really, if nobody did anything they didn't want to, we'd all be living in pretty filthy houses. There would be lots of artists and musicians and people who got to do all the fun stuff. But there wouldn't be many sewerage workers or garbage men. And, that would be a pretty icky world to live in.

So for now, I'm going to go clean the bathroom and mop the floor. And I'm very grateful that my husband is at work. It's not easy to do things that you don't want to do. But at the end of the day, I think we grow more character and discipline in the day-to-day monotony, than we do in a crisis. I know people say, you don't really know who you are until you've been tested, and sometimes you don't. But I also think that who you are every single day of your life says more about a person's true character, and it determines what will happen when the crisis comes.

Insert witty post tittle here

Georgie has been sick over the weekend. We've had a horrible couple of nights and I've been getting pretty stressed. Today when Shane got home he told me to go have half and hour, so I put a leash on Chloe and we went for a walk.

As I was walking I went past my old work and I started thinking about life before Georgie. I used to be incredibly busy, days were very full. I would wake at around 6:30am and go for a walk, then start work at 8:30am, and finish at 6pm with an hour for lunch. My work was pretty energetic, as I was the Group Leader in the pre-kindy room and was in charge of 16 children. I would generally go to the gym at 6pm, and do an exercise class of some description and not be home until 7:30pm or so, when I'd cook a very easy dinner, watch television for a while and then go to bed. Most days I would also ride my bike to work and then to the gym.  Shane started work at 5am and didn't get home until about 7pm. Life was pretty busy.

Now, Shane still leaves for work at around 5am. He normally gets Georgie up and brings her into bed with me, where I feed her and then she and I go back to bed until we wake, generally at around 8am. Then my days are filled with cleaning, Playgroup on Tuesdays, cleaning, coffee with friends, cleaning, groceries, cleaning.... and that's about it. I try to walk when I can, but I just seem to find it very difficult.

I don't want my old life back. I love Georgie to bits, and Shane and I see a lot more of each other and are much closer than we've ever been. But I still miss how full my days were. I long to be busy, busy, busy- constantly on the go and moving and doing. Life is much... slower, now. I don't want it to be this slow. I don't want to be as busy as I was before, but I wish I had a better balance than I do now, you know?

I can't sleep. But I'm always so tired. I just have so much trouble switching off. Many nights I can't sleep until at least midnight. I think some of that is because Georgie and I have been sleeping in lately, (partly due to the fact that we've been up in the night a lot recently due to teething and her being sick, and honestly, if you had a child who would sleep in wouldn't you?), and I know some of it is because I just enjoy the solitude of the night, when everyone's asleep and I can be alone without someone requiring something of me, but I also think some of it is because I'm just desperate to do.

I know that the busyness will come with more children. But I need to be more disciplined now. It was just so much easier when work did it for me.

Tomorrow I'm going to try to make myself wake up at 6:30am, regardless of what kind of night's sleep I had. I'm going to try to finish my Diploma in Children's services this year, and I'm going to make myself walk every day. I'm going to try. I just wish things weren't so hard.

In which I say not much at all....

Today was a day filled with sleeping and pyjamas and cuddles and playing peek-a-boo and washing (oh! the washing!) and not too much else.

We got back from being away yesterday, and boy was it a big trip! First and most importantly.... Wicked was fan-freaking-tastic! So, so, so, so great! I can't stop singing the songs, but I don't know them very well, so I just keep singing 'Pop-u-lar, you're going to be Pop-u-ooo-lar!' and yes, it's very irritating!

Next, while we were away Georgie cut her first tooth! It was not a great weekend for the cutting of teeth to occur. We were in a reasonably small hotel room for two nights, and those two nights were the worst we have EVER had with her. They consisted of lots of walking up and down corridors, pushing a pram, trying her in the baby carrier, crying, swearing and grizzling! I swear every time she got to sleep she would wake up within 20 minutes! Also, our air conditioner in the motel room broke on Friday night and started pouring out hot air, so at 3am Georgie was boiling hot and I put her in the bath to cool her down, which, in turn, woke her up, and then she didn't go back down until 5:30. It was just bad all round.

But the Saturday night was much better in comparison. It really helped that Shane and I had had a better afternoon on Saturday, and were less inclined to tear each others heads off... but it was touch and go there for a while my friends I'm telling you!

We also left our pillows in the motel room. And I know, it shouldn't matter that much, but it was my favourite pillow!! And I really really miss it! Also, I left a book that a friend lent me in one of the pillowcases (Bad friend!)  However I rang the hotel yesterday and they are supposed to be sending them back, so I'll be quiet!

But seriously.... my favourite pillow!

On the upside we got to catch up with some friends on Sunday night.  They're the kind of people you can catch up with, and it doesn't matter how long it's been, you're just so comfortable. You know those friends you see, and you don't feel like they're putting on a 'front' with you, and you don't have to be anyone but you with them? It was just nice.

We also had a really great time with my family. We went out for Greek on Saturday night- yummy! And then we had the most amazing breakfast on Sunday morning before we walked down to the river and wandered at the markets. It was just so lovely. I really enjoy the city, but still, I wouldn't want to live there. I just wish we could take a little bit of it back home with us. Our town isn't exactly the most exciting of places. But it is still so nice to be home.

The trip back was pretty uneventful, Georgie slept for most of it, and ate cucumber for the rest- it is one of best teething tools I ever discovered! But yesterday afternoon was a mad rush of grocery shopping, since we came home to no food, mowing, as the lawn was out of control, and then rushing to music practice for church. So it has been nice to have a quiet day today where Georgie and I didn't do too much. That is one of the nice things about stay-at-home-motherhood. If you're feeling pretty stressed and the kids are off, you can just elect to have a quiet day sometimes.

I would post some photos, but the camera is in the car and the car is already in the shed, and I do not go into the shed at night unless I absolutely have to. I really don't like spiders. So..... that's about it. I had nothing really significant to say, and I've said it, but feel better for it.

Goodnight.