I spent months stressing over my little girls lack of interest in moving around. Anxious hours trying to make Tummy Time fun instead of just seeing it for what it was…plain old crap.
I used to set aside time each day to try to encourage her to roll over. Bribed her with toys, loo roll and snacks. Even lay beside her and demonstrated, the pure joy, that is rolling over. Calling her name until I was blue. Waving a rubber giraffe around just out of her reach, in the hope, that she would grab it. I would put on my very best ‘this is so exciting!’ face, only for her to look at me as if to say ‘Fuck off Mother’.
Well fast forward to the present day and she is crawling. In your face tummy time! She is rolling every which way. Up your butt Sophie the Giraffe. I’m proud and relieved of course but damn, I wish she would just chill.
The bumps, bruises and near misses are going to put me in an early grave. In desperate moments I give her my handbag, knowing full well, she only wants three things from there:
My 2016 diary and all its paper, receipts and mail stuffed inside.
My mobile.
My tampons.
I’m looking forward to when she can walk. She will be a little closer to my height and I won’t be hunched over all day like an ape. I spend most of my days on the floor playing pretend kitchen or make-believe call centre. Only one thing is worth long hours on the floor with carpet burn to show for it – this ain’t it.
It turns out that I am a shouty mum. I am not proud of that. The nice and calm and firm but fair jazz gives me only one result – laughter. In my face, brazen and shameless, she just laughs. She then continues what she was doing, looking me square in the eye as she does so. I am raising a mini me!
She will clear the entire contents of my dresser with one swift arm sweep. Pull herself up on anything she can reach, pull things down on herself…give me strength! I am always one step ahead but this lead can change in an instant. I have to ask – how do people cope with more than one kid? How do people who work with children, not leave their jobs bald and crying hysterically…every day?
I cannot believe that my girl is more challenging than any other. I would like to think that I can hack the challenges of the motherhood as good as the next gal. So what is it?
I met up with my Best Friend over the weekend and we talked it all through. Well, I talked and my lovely friend absorbed my crazy, with a knowing smile. It is amazing what some quality time, with a fellow mum, over a coffee and a muffin can do. Nothing was changed. Nothing was solved but I was heard and understood. The truth is…there is no big secret. What I go through is what others go through. What I worry about is the norm. My frazzled brain and my overflowing emotions are standard issue. Yippee…I think.
One thing that is different, in my case, is that I am going it alone with zero breaks. No job, no nursery and no job sharing with husband or family. My best friend is a proud owner of a Nursery-job-and-happy-to-help-Grandparents package. When she offered to change my little ones nappy while I finished my coffee – I could have cried. That had been the only help I had been offered all month.
I do ask for help but I am constantly shocked at the bullshit excuses and responses that my requests are met with. We will get to that!
It’s been a year. I need a break. I deserve a break. I have needs…I just need to remember what they are. I need to get my life balance in order. My little girl is getting so mobile and fast and I’m just getting fat and mumsy. I am physically exhausted but mentally bored. It is time to get my shit together. If I have to do that alone then so be it.