Monday, 19 January 2015

Gone..

Mr 3: Mum, why are you making that funny face?

Me: I'm just feeling sad because E is not here..

Mr 3: It's ok, Mum, he just always goes somewhere and then he comes back.

...

Mum? Its ok, because all the people look after each other,  and all the people are parts of the world.

Tuesday, 26 August 2014

The (Angry) Black Dog..

I read this article a few weeks ago. Something in it just seemed to ring true, and it wasn't the part about disciplining young children. ..

I was going to send it to my husband as a joke, with a comment like "ha, maybe I'm not just a bitch!?"

http://www.honestparenthood.com/discipline-depression/?utm_content=buffera9328&utm_medium=social&utm_source=facebook.com&utm_campaign=buffer

It's not funny any more though. ... I am really broken. And often feeling really alone, with this hurricane in my chest.

This is the section that resonated most with me:

" A parent’s depression during the toddler and preschooler years isn’t likely a sleep in and cry type, since that’s impossible, but rather a more irritable, everything pisses me off and I can’t enjoy anything type. You are less likely to recognize this agitation as depression, and think it’s because you’re just kind of bitchy."

Last night was the lowest I have been for a long time. I just felt like the pain inside was going to burst out of my chest and splinter me apart. My sweet boys watched on as I struggled to hold myself together enough to get through the dinner and bedtime routine.

I realised why the Black Dog is Angry. It is as the article says - there is just no time to lay in bed and cry all day. Instead it is contained. Ignored. Inside the chest cavity it swirls and festers. It gets stronger and darker. It starts creeping out in agitation, frustration and diminished tolerance levels. Exhaustion. Until one day, she takes a deep breath, and tries to calm herself - and then the tears start. An uncontrollable overflow of the turmoil inside.

Mr 2.5 came into the kitchen to tell me he loved me - finding me crumpled on the floor in the corner, he asked "why are your eyes so wet, mummy?"

Mr 11 later asked why I kept crying. When I shook my head, unable to verbally respond, he asked "does it feel like it's just inside you? Like a disease or something?"

I have made an appointment to start getting to the core of this. Hubby is supportive, even if he feels helpless. As Mr 11 astutely pointed out on the weekend, I seem to be "waging a war with myself in my own head".

This Angry Black Dog is no longer welcome in my home.

Sunday, 6 July 2014

This is where we live..

It is school holidays at the moment. The biggest boy is with his Dad, Husbo has been busy at work, and so the littles and I have been just enjoying where we live.

We have been revelling in the winter sun. Spending the glorious sunny mornings wandering between the beach and the playgrounds, and the river in between. By lunchtime we have enjoyed sushi together most days (at 2.5 year olds insistence), then a last play at the 'red playground' before heading home for a story and a nap.

I had my Aunt visit the other day and was gleefully singing the praises of this paradise we are lucky to call home, as we looked over the turquoise river and noticed angel fish swimming amongst the rocks. She made a comment that it was a special thing that I had such an appreciation of what I have everyday access to. I was surprised, because I thought it would be impossible not to recognise the incredible beauty around us - and expressed as much, likening it to my feeling of fresh love and wonder that my children invoke in me every day.

But this weekend I had a physical reminder that it is possible to miss such beauty. That sometimes people get too caught up in their own fears, insecurities and perceptions to see the wonders of mother earth that they are experiencing right there in that moment.

It is their loss I guess. No one can take away from me the daily gratitude I feel for where we live.

Wednesday, 7 May 2014

Our life as a meme..

In this moment, captured, I felt like I was epitomising some joke about parenting more than one child. It went something along the lines of:

First child finds food on the floor - parent replaces it with a fresh version. Second child finds food on the floor - parent brushes it off and gives it back to child. Third child finds food on the floor - parent takes a photo and celebrates child eating first solid food!

Monday, 14 April 2014

Body beautiful...

The other night I fell asleep fully dressed, whilst settling baby M. At some stage through the night I managed to rid myself of the dress I had on, leaving me just in my underdaks. When I finally acknowledged that the day should just begin, I emerged from the bedroom into the quiet, still sleepy house and managed to catch a glimpse of myself in the full-length mirror outside our bathroom.

For the first time, possibly in my life, I really loved what I saw. I am well versed with the parts of my body that I often see and feel uncomfortable with - my tummy that still seems to bulge, my chunky thighs, my arms not as toned as I would like, and my neck that threatens to become a full-blown double chin if I keep using chocolate to keep myself upright through the day.. but this time I saw the complete package, and it worked. My body is rounded, yes, but in a softly beautiful, well proportioned and achingly feminine way.

A shall try to remember this body, beautiful, exists.

Thursday, 27 March 2014

He understands..

The most beautiful thing in my days is watching my littlest two boys interact. Mr 2 is just so loving, gentle, thoughtful and understanding of baby M.

When baby M is upset, Mr 2 will tell me what it is that he wants. I've really noticed in the last few days that Mr 2 is spot on, everytime. Where he used to just say "he wants mummy" or "he wants a breastfeed", Mr 2 now knows if M wants to sleep, is asking for a toy, or needs to do a wee!

My favourite though is when M is upset, and Mr 2 will go up and cuddle him, saying "it's ok M, I'm here".

He understands.

Tuesday, 25 March 2014

A sentiment to remember..

 
"Jealousy is the art of counting someone else’s blessings instead of your own"

This sentence jumped off the page it was on. Clearly a message I needed to see.

The whole article is well worth a read too.