If there is one thing this enforced extra long Christmas break has done for me it is to serve as a stark reminder that I am, more than ever, glad to be a working mum! Maybe it’s the move, perhaps I am out of practice, or it could just be the isolation… (likely its all three) but I am more and more certain its easier to be at your paid place of employment than to be a full time stay-at-home mum.
Hopefully this doesn’t then paint me in some ill-conceived parenting light. But it’s the truth – I can assure you I love my son and we do have moments of bliss here at home, but bloody hell, they are tough and bone wearingly tiring days trying to keep him amused, out of mischief and, at the present moment, to reintroduce his routine and therefore per-fect a decent stretch of lunch time sleep.
I’d much rather be at work answering a curly question from the CEO than hear the sound of my voice saying over and over again “Harrison, don’t touch”, “Harrison, no, that’s NOT a toy”, or my personal favourite – “Harrison, its 5.45am, PLEASE go back to sleep!” day in and dayout as is currently the case. And the simple fact my son has started to parrot me and saying “Harrison, NO!” in his little voice, is evidence of just how much he has heard that phrase of late…
The husband reminds me that its just a very “hands-on” age, one where he and I both yearn for some independence but as yet cannot grant it for safety sake. Could it be the case I just have one super spirited son in my charge? A friend told me she painted their whole unit while her son happily played in a cordoned off area. Makes you wonder what I am doing wrong when you think about the state of unpack and mess my new house is still in, 10 days on from moving in!
Maybe it would be different if we lived closer to Harrison’s grandparents. I envy those who can just drop by and hang out at their parents, or in-laws place and have a wide web of friends and family close to hand in which to wile away the sometimes tedium of the day. I know many are parenting the way I am forced to, without any semblance of support network… I wonder, do they often feel the same sometimes overwhelming sense of solitude and sinking feeling that can strike when you see a happy pairing of mother, daughter and child strolling down a street or at the shops?
I guess its just on days like this when nothing seems to be going to plan, when its taken me 2 hours to get to the washing up and even longer to get myself dressed and ready to greet the outside world (had to welcome the furniture delivery men in my nightie this morning – at 10am! – and I’d been out of bed for 4 hours…) I don’t know whether to laugh, cry – or pour myself a stiff drink (which is ironic, seeing as though I am a virtual teetotaller these days!) And then when the Husband tells me he wont be home until late and Harrison has just thrown, in a fury of frustration, a full drink bottle of apple juice all over my freshly mopped floor (done begrudgingly at 7.30pm last night when I was bloody tired) you will hopefully forgive me this rant! Trust me, I will feel a lot better once this steam is released from my system…
At least tomorrow is a brand new day and we wipe clean today’s slate for a fresh start!