An update

I'm still here. I'm just having a bit of trouble at the moment, and writing is hard. I'm not sure what to write, how much to share, if I want to share.  But when I figure it out I'll let you know.

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.

I am a tea bag

A woman is like a tea bag. You never know how strong she is until she gets in hot water. Eleanor Roosevelt.

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Drop it in scalding, unbearably hot water. Watch as the water leeches out all the flavour, all the goodness, and it colours and stains. Make it sit in the hot water so you can take everything from it. Squeeze it, wring it out, until the very last drop trickles out. And then discard it, when it has nothing left, and is of no further use.

Who am I? I am Robyn. Woman, wife, Mother, daughter, sister, friend.

And today, I am a tea bag.

Linking up with Eden's Fresh Horses Brigade.

Our time

Every night Charlie goes to bed between seven and eight o'clock. And, without fail, every night he wakes up at nine or ten, just as I (would like to) go to bed.

He is a lovely boy, but he is a night owl. Both of my children have been night owls actually. But I am too, so really it isn't that surprising. Maybe if I was less awake at night they wouldn't be? But regardless, every night he wakes, and then stays awake, generally till around midnight.

And quite honestly, I don't really mind.

I mind the next morning when I have trouble keeping my eyes open. But at the same time, it's quite nice. We don't get a lot of time when it's just me and my boy. Even though I would really like to have an early night, I quite like those couple of hours at night with my Charlie. So, while his sister and his Dad sleep, it's our time.

Generally we play, or he rolls around all over the floor while I potter around doing jobs. I drink a lot of tea at night. We change nappies and tickle toes and say remarkably silly things about little piggies. Most of the time Charlie spends the first hour of his awake time being quite happy, and I do enjoy getting to be with him like that. The second hour tends to be a bit harder, that's when he starts getting tired and cranky, and I get tired and cranky. There is lots of patting and rocking and Go to sleep Charlie! But generally it's okay.

I do like my boy.

Probably if I was a better, stricter parent I could fight this and make him go to bed. But I just can't seem to want to enough. I know that all too soon the baby smiles and gurgles will be gone, and he will be a big boy and he will be off doing things that are far more important, and Mum stop kissing me! So I enjoy this while I can.

I mean really, would you mind spending a couple of hours with this guy?

That moment when you realise you have become your Mother...

You can see the merit in ironing clothes.

You cannot go to bed without doing the dishes.

You think a nice cup of tea is the perfect end to every meal, and you also believe a cup of tea can help solve every problem.... basically, you just drink a lot of tea.

You are always late for everything, because you always want to "just hang out a load of washing really quickly" before you go anywhere.

The idea of a bath, a really good book and a great night's sleep... sounds like the best night ever.

You look for SPF in your moisturizer.

You are less interested in the trendiness of your wardrobe, than the practicality, and you no longer buy clothes that you don't wear.

You find yourself thinking "that music really needs to be turned down!"

You make people text you when they are travelling, so you won’t worry.

You are willing to accept less... so your children can have more.

Linking up with Jess for some #IBOT fun!

Cleaning, cleaning, cleaning, there's always so much cleaning to be done!

Image found {here}

Shane and I have quite traditional roles around the house. I clean the toilet, he chops firewood. He mows the lawn, I do the folding. It's never even really been discussed, it's just the way we operate. Occasionally we help each other out with the jobs. For instance, on bad days he often cooks dinner, and I like to help him out mowing the lawn when I get the chance... but most of the time, a lot of the indoor cleaning tasks fall to me, and his work is either outside of the house, or at his paid job. I don't always love it (folding clothes is often the bane of my existence!) but most of the time it works for us.

The concept of 'clean' is so relative. When I worked at my job, I would often let the housework slide during the week, and then just get in and clean up on the weekends. Now, I can't go to bed if the dishes aren't done, and my life often feels like it revolves around household tasks. Washing, dishes, bed-making, sweeping, folding, cooking.... and before you know it a whole day is gone!

I'd hate for my kids to remember their Mother as a cleaning Nazi who never had any fun. I don't want to reach the end of my days, and have it said about me that I didn't travel, didn't dream or take risks... but boy my house was nice! What an empty achievement.

But at the same time, I like having a clean house. It's nice. It's part of the way I show the people around me that I love them. It also keeps me sane. I like living in a nice, well-ordered environment. I want to have a nice clean home that can make people feel welcome. My house certainly isn't the cleanest house in the world, but as a general rule, it's nice and tidy. However I don't want that to be all I do.

Most of the time, I try not to let cleaning take over everyday. I have a couple of days that I designate specifically for household chores, but most days I do the basics and then try to go live life.  I tend to leave the house alone a bit during the day, and do some of the chores while he kids nap, but then at night once everyone is asleep I do my big tidy up, that takes me about 45 minutes. That's when I do the dishes, tidy the kitchen and the lounge room, sweep the floor, straighten the bathroom, take out the rubbish, and do anything else that needs doing. It's nice to wake up to a nice house in the morning.

That might sounds like a lot to some people, and yet sound like nothing to others. There are so many times when I feel like my house isn't clean enough... but the thing about cleaning is that the more you do, the more you see there is to do!

I can see how easy it would be for a stay at home Mum to develop a hugely unhealthy attitude to cleaning, so I work hard on keeping my inner desperate housewife in check! Because honestly, there really is so much more to life than a clean house! What's your attitude like when it comes to cleaning, and what is your cleaning routine like?

Dear Today, you were pretty great.

My morning began at around 5am when the baby boy in the cradle beside me started making 'feed me' noises. I brought him to bed with me and fed him, and then he lay between Shane and I and chattered to himself while I pretended to go back to sleep and eventually dozed off.

Shane's alarm went off beside me and he got up and had breakfast. He woke me because he needed a lift this morning since his vehicle was at work. As I woke up slowly while he had a shower I heard Georgie calling out "Mummy! Daddy!" so I left a thumb-sucking Charlie on the bed and went in to her. She was fuzzy and warm and I got a lovely just-awake cuddle.

We got into the car, and then Shane dashed back inside and got me one of his beanies to wear because my hair was doing all kinds of crazy. We drove to Shane's work (stopping to pick up a couple of coffees in the drive-through on the way) and then the kids and I went home to have breakfast. Georgie and I had our toast while Charlie talked to us from the bouncer, and then she played in the lounge room while he had a feed and went down for a morning nap. I had a shower with a little girl sitting on the bottom of the bath, and she had a splash around in the tub while I got myself dressed and ready for the day.

We hung a load of washing out, and then the two tiny people went into the pram and we walked downtown past all the shops, stopping occasionally to give Georgie another biscuit, until we finally reached the park. Charlie watched while his sister played, climbing and sliding and bouncing. Eventually we started back for home, stopping briefly to chat to another Mummy friend we met. Georgie started to fall asleep in the pram, so I got her out and she walked alongside very s-l-o-w-l-y. We finally made it home, and I made a frittata for lunch (grated potato, cheese, onion and zucchini, yum!) while Georgie sat in her highchair with some salad and Charlie tried hard to move on the floor.

Shane came home and Georgie went down for her nap, and we ate lunch and Charlie had a feed. Shane went back to work and Charlie went down for a nap and I wasted a bit of time on the internet and wrote a blog post. I did a bit of housework, and then Georgie woke up. We went outside and hung out more washing, and then we made some biscuits. I took Charlie over to Grandma's for a little visit when Daddy came home, and Shane, Georgie and I went for a bike ride.

I picked up Charlie, and then, while it started to get cool, the tiny people had a bath and got into their snuggly pajamas. We had some dinner, Georgie brushed her teeth and we read some Hairy MaClary from Donaldson's Dairy before bed. Charlie stayed up for a while, but he was so happy it was okay. Eventually, Charles went to sleep, and then Shane and I chatted, while he sat with his laptop busily and I did the last straighten-the-house before bed.

It was a good day.