I was looking at this picture of my boys in the bathtub the other day, and I gave into crying. In this image they were 3, 2 and 12 months old and to be honest, I sat there looking not really believing that we have made it this far.
Those first years are hard ones I don’t care what people say.
No one can comprehend the work it takes with little ones, especially three small ones until you are out the other side. The sleep deprivation. The levels of exhaustion both physically and mentally that you can get you to is incomprehensible. And that’s not even taking into account other factors like keeping house, jobs or keeping partners happy.
My husband and I had three babies by our choosing with an age gap of 17 months apart, and it was tough. It was, even tougher doing it with my husband working offshore again by our choosing and yet change it? Never.
Now many would possibly say that they regret not spending more time with them. That they should have baked more, mothered better, crafted more, danced more to high 5, had more patience, did more with them, even fed them more organically. I could regret most of that if I believed in regret, but I don’t. I did all that I could. I was and am a good mum.
Yet it was while looking at that picture of my three chubby babies one thing struck me with great surprise. It was the realisation how little they were that I had been on my own without support; with the exception- who worked 4000kms from us, of my husband since the birth of B1. I suddenly realised how I had been so hard to myself then, and suddenly wished I hadn’t and wished that Id taken care of me better.
Sitting there looking at this picture I found myself thinking I had wished Id rested more, taken better care of myself, taken time to do whatever it was I needed to. I wish I had accepted the help of my neighbours more. If I had done then, I might not be scrambling to find my feet so much now. My mental and physical health would have been better then, and I know I would have enjoyed them more too and them me.
Instead, I ran on adrenaline because back then pure exhaustion saw me busy trying to make it through the day. I didn’t have time for me. I had expectations to fill, and none of them included me. That is not to say I didn’t try to take care of me. My husband did his utmost to help nurture some part of who I was he tried so hard, but I allowed guilt, expectation and the opinions of others regardless of whether they had one stop me.
After all this was our doing, I must ‘suck up the consequence’ of our decisions but the truth it’s nothing like that I had people wanting to help me. I just wouldn’t allow them to because ‘this was our decision’, and I must ‘suck it up’. I saw it as to accept help meant I was a ‘less than a parent’. That perhaps people would see me as or would pity me as that stereotypical mother with too many children who couldn’t cope and with her husband working ‘away’ well that was just an added bonus for my over thinking. However this is not just a FIFO issue this is a parent issue. So in saying that this ‘idea’ of what people thought of me was so far removed from the truth I wasn’t even on the same planet as my ‘idea’.
However, this is not just a FIFO issue this is a parent issue. FIFO just makes it trickier.
So in saying that this ‘idea’ of what people thought of me was so far removed from the truth I wasn’t even on the same planet as my ‘idea’.
It’s was not like that at all. Having said that there is always exception except for people who have high riding horses however the world will receive them eventually with the bloody nose they deserve be it from altitude sickness or the sudden fall into reality don’t worry about them I did and shouldn’t have.
So take half an hour or more to do whatever it is you need to do. To keep yourself healthy, well and to keep you from being lost. It’s important in keeping you so you are the best parent {and partner} you can be for now and later.
And stop being so hard on yourself.
Now if that means having ABC 2 babysit for a time do it. Placing the kids in a port a cot while you treadmill it, gym it, craft it, or giving into pride and accepting the help of others do it. If it means foregoing the housework to take 20 minutes for you, do it. Houses are to be lived in not looked at. Thats what Vogue living is for.
It’s how good healthy parents and children are created.
Xx Deb
