Pardon my French.

It’s nap time.

And I’m in between making a nutritious lunch for bubs while snacking on Hershey’s chocolate drops for mine. Lovely.

I need to vent.

I’ve been on ground for 5 days now. I was feeling grateful. Because if I had another job, I know I’d probably never have that much time off. There, I said it.

So I woke up this morning thinking hey, we survived that brutal long ass trip last week. Maybe we can do this. Maybe it’s not so bad.

But then my roster changed. And the resentment, anxiousness and shitty mood erupted from every cell in my being.

Knowing my son will wake up searching for me. Looking towards the door. Wondering where I’ve disappeared to again.

He knows. Before the suitcase even comes out. It’s like he has a sixth sense about it. I try my hardest to masque my energy. But baby boy knows.

I hate leaving in the night. I hate leaving in the day. I hate leaving full stop.

I’m constantly torn between the way I would love to raise our son and the way it needs to be for now. Gosh there’s so many things to factor in. Like the future for instance.

 

And I know I’m not on my own.

In an ideal world we would all have the necessary maternal time off required. Because maternity doesn’t stop at birth. Or 6 weeks after. Or even a few months later. It continues. Well past the baby stage and into toddlerhood.

My job completely opposes what I believe is optimal for the emotional development and attachment of our little boy. But going to work at 9am to finish at 5 and sit in traffic until 6 - wouldn’t cut it for me either. I just don’t see how that lifestyle could possibly fulfill the evolving needs of a developing child either.

So I’m doing the best with what I can. Making the most of our days off together. Being completely available. Being my best self because that’s who I am when I’m home.

I know I’m a good mum. But the world we live in today doesn’t allow you to be present the way our babies (big or small) deserve us to be. Some countries have it down pat. Others are doing the bare minimum. But most need to do better.

This goes for society too. What’s the rush?

The gadgets. The guides. The pressure to get your body back and be who you used to be. Fuck off. Let us be. Life has changed. And we’ll resurface when we’re ready.

No I don’t like my ass at the moment. No I don’t feel like going back to lifting heavy or Muay Thai right now. No my house isn’t spotless everyday. And no I’m not done breastfeeding or co-sleeping.

I know. This sounds like one massive complaint form.

And I feel guilty about the way I feel. Because I am aware of how lucky we are in most ways. Especially with the horrific things happening a mere few countries away.

And that’s usually the slap in the face I need to get my shit together.

So as I seal my cheeky bag of chocolate and hide it at the back of the fridge, knowing my baby bear is sleeping soundly and safely - I’m reminded to appreciate what we have and everything we are able to do for him. 

Talk soon x