I have been wondering lately when this moment was going to happen for me. I have fractures in two of my teeth from stress grinding at night and my neck and back are so tight it will take more than a little Westfield-massage-in-between-grocery-shop to fix. We are 6 months into our second son’s time on this planet and the daily juggle of two kids, broken sleep, maintaining a farm, a new business and a relationship have taken their toll. There have been days lately where the washing pile is so high that I get major depression when I see it and I catch myself sobbing while I am pushing the vacuum around the floor - this wasn’t the reason I was put on this Earth. I will happily be a nurturing mother, a loving partner and work till my fingers bleed, however somehow, years back in my idealistic youth, I pictured it a little different, a little easier. Like me as Earth Mother bouncing out of bed for meditation and yoga everyday at 6am before the kids got up, having more help at home – i.e. nanny, night nurse, housekeeper, cook and gardener all working full time. A raging business in its late teens bringing in zillions to support this home infrastructure. Regular mini breaks with my partner and spa trips alone to re-energize and make me want to be at home sweet home. Instead I constantly feel stretched, scream like a banshee and wake up with full-blown anxiety at the thought of getting our 3 year old to day care on time, panicked at having to take the car capsule in and out of the car with infant so DOCS don’t lock me up when I leave him alone with the window down a crack. Some days I feel I should check I am still alive as my breath is so shallow.
I was always doing a million things at once, my house was spotless and I felt like I could rule the world on potential alone. My hair was done, my nails unchipped and my wardrobe organized to the colour. I was fit. How did I become so disconnected from myself? I would never have believed it. What the hell happened? Kids happened. Now, things take so much longer to complete or don’t get finished at all - agony for a task-oriented person like myself. I can’t do multiple things at once anymore. I am lucky if my hair gets a brush and I don't walk out of the house with baby vomit on me. I used to poo poo women who dressed for practicality when they had toddlers. I now acknowledge their common sense. I have to surrender to the chaos and let go of trying to always do things my own way. Maybe if only for 10 minutes of dirty little kid hands. I am happier than I have ever been. I have two amazing sons who are healthy. I have a farmyard of animals, a beautiful home and an awesome partner who is a hands on Dad and supportive. We have incredible friends and family. I have a great business. Get over it and quit being a princess. I say to myself: I am grateful. I trust that the universe will provide and I will enjoy the moments in between. I let go. Repeat. This is again my mantra. Until my next meltdown.
Pic via Google