Two weeks ago, I picked up my laptop for the first time in nearly two years. The last time I’d gone to use the laptop it wouldn’t turn on. After showing it to my tech-head husband (and he reiterated that he’d told me not to buy a laptop) it seemed to be a dead duck….
To say that the last six months have been full-on and overwhelming would be an understatement to say the least. There has been so many occasions where I wanted to start writing again but it just hasn’t happened. I’ve missed having this as an outlet to not only express myself but also to clear my head. So, let me catch you up on what has been happening over the last six months.
This week I dropped into the Day Care centre that Ollie will be starting at next month – when I’m back at work two days each week. We know a number of people who send their small people to this particular centre and they are all are very happy. Only a week ago, I was…
Minus a couple of specifics, I have the life that I always dreamed of having. The truth is that I’ve had that life for a while, but I just hadn’t acknowledged it.
I must have sat on the floor for all of two or three minutes throwing myself a pity party. During that time I mentally berated myself for (but not limited to): worst Mum ever; getting upset and raising my voice at a baby; mimicking the behaviour of a one year old and then saying no; for emotionally scarring my child by behaving like a nut case and wondering when my neighbours would be calling child protective services.
That lesson was knowing my own worth. What was acceptable to me and what wasn’t and staying true to that. I realised that I would be better off alone then to be with a manipulative and cruel person.
Instead of having dozens of options of things to wear, the choices at present are narrowed drastically by what’s clean and what might fit. I grabbed a cute grey dress out of the cupboard and held it up against myself. The possibility of greasy or dirty little hands leaving marks on the light coloured silk fabric was too much of a risk. Plus, wearing the dress meant making a trip to the dry cleaner sometime in the future. Why do I still own things that are dry clean only?
I have loved my baby boy every single second – he is the light of my life. My occasional mixed feelings don’t make me a bad person. They make me human. Some days I am better at believing this than others.
Why couldn’t I ask for more information so that I could understand why it wasn’t necessary? What had I said that was so offensive?
For a period of time, I didn’t feel like a person anymore. I felt like a (incredibly exhausted, vomited and faeces covered) body wandering around with two HUUUUUUGE breasts attached. The downside of breastfeeding for me was feeling as though the milk bar was ALWAYS open.
A few years ago, my friend Hannah gave birth to a beautiful baby girl named Isla. Hannah had what I can only think to describe as a traumatic birth. To tell you the truth, when she recounted her experiences to me shortly after, I was quite traumatised hearing about them. Shortly before Miss Isla’s first…
Last weekend I was in the bathroom drying off after my shower. I hung my towel up and looked at my naked body in the huge mirror. Mentally I tore my appearance to shreds. I started as always with my face, next, I moved on to my breasts and finally to my stomach. Despair washed…