It’s been a hard day. One of those “I-wanna-crawl-out-of-my-own-skin-and-run-away-screaming” kinda day’s.
I am not, and never have been, a marsupial mum. I wasn’t born with a pouch out front or as part of a tree dwelling family, so after nine months of carrying my babies, when they finally popped out I was more than happy to put them down!
I have always liked my personal space – both physical and mental. I think one of the hardest adjustments for me was losing that physical space when I became a home stayin mamma.
There have been many, many days I have felt trapped beyond breathing. Days when my gals have been on my hip, under my feet, over my shoulder, around my ankles, mentally and physically pulling me down, down, down.
I hold resentment towards my husband because of it – I know I do.
He gets to sail out the door every day to go to work. He gets a break from home. He gets to be an individual. He gets to worry about himself for the day. Do I sound bitter? I am!! Should I discuss this with my husband? Probably!
But honestly, today it was like my girls were literally trying to climb back inside me. Like a dog around a non-doggy person, they could smell the “anti” vibe from me and obviously felt the only solution was to show me how much they loved me by returning themselves to the womb.
Sorry, I’m nearly sure I’ve birthed you once before!! Please; take a step back!
If I told you at this point that I am actually quite a tactile person, that I love hugs and cuddles and foot rubs, would you believe me? Honestly, I am! Parenting is very much about touch. I kiss and snuggle my girls, I pick them up when they fall, I put them in and out of the car, I carry them when they are too tired to walk, I sit them on my lap to read, I hold their hands, I dress them, I clean them, I tuck them in, I stroke their hair, I rub their boo-boos – I think I can safely say that I spend about 75% of my day with my hands on my kids! So yes, I am a very tactile person.
But I am also entitled to my body space, even from my children.
So sometimes I *shock horror* asked for help! To regain some space, some sanity, some me. And I’ve been judged for that (yes, by another mother – yawn!). I’ve been judged for handing my girls over to another family member while I uncoiled and caught my breathe, while I had the audacity to pursue something for myself. And those poor children have had to endure days of fun; treats; adventure; bonding with their family!
It’s been a hard day. But now I am alone, fulfilling the ultimate mummy cliche of downing a large glass of wine (g&t) with my feet up – possible angling for a rub…