If these walls could talk…
I believe it would have a voice that sounded like Harry Enfield doing an impression of Margaret Thatcher.
Reciting codes of conduct, while side whispering pervy incidents to you while you sleep. Anytime you would mention a problem outloud the walls would swiftly open in on one of many tragic stories from its 100 year existence as a school, to showcase how good things are in the present. These stories fill the listener with gratitude until ultimately it begins slipping into sexist rants. “Women shouldn’t be allowed to vote while menstruating, it clogs up their decent judgments. That is science!”
You might be able to tell I am losing the plot.
I got sick. Then real sick. Then real real sick. And now I am just sick. Sick of being out of the social realms of life. Sick of feeling crazy tired 24/7. Sick of being in pain. Sick of fevers. Sick of being sick.
I cannot hold my concentration. I cannot work on my resume - which needs some tuning up! I cannot be a good wife, good house parent, good mum or a good me!
I have not been this kind of sick in a long time, my entire immune system just went on holiday. Leaving me to smush what is left back together.
What do they say when you are ill?
What can you not do at all when a stay at home parent…. you got it.
That part is the worst. I feel like crap. Peaches just wants to show me everything ever - as she is jazzed about everything. “A fly, mum. A fly! Fly!” Baby Girl, mommy is sick and does not give a rats patootie about what you can see in the windows, love of my life.
I am grumpy. I am grizzled. I just want to wrestle this illness into submission - but for now. I will take advantage of the girl being at nursery and take a nap.
That time of year again where everyone is making their “life changing” resolutions AND HERE IS ANOTHER ONE. Well, sort of. Change is a process not a flash solution. Innit. Isn’t it? Probably.
To recap my resolution of 2017 :
“to just keep doing the best I can. I am not super mom. But I have this super awesome kid. And although I yearn for the yesteryear where my rose tinted memories suggest I had no worries or responsibilities - this is where I am at.”
Pfffft, Nailed it! Hahaha. For reals though, I did begin finally asking for help in 2017 - whether it be 5 minutes to myself, or a date night with the husband. Only took two years, but I am stubborn. So I will continue to work on asking and receiving help regularly in the years to come.
For my 2018 resolution, I hope to work on my patience and to better handle situations with those who test it. I have not quite worked out as to how I will go about doing this, but I figure it will come to me - as and when needed. I hope!
Living with a toddler and alongside 6 teenagers (not to mention being inside a school and regularly interacting with hundreds of students) could test Ghandi’s patience. Some have called me quick witted - the same fast response I occasionally use when frustrated. It does not make the situation better, as a joke would, but leaves everyone a little taken aback.
So that is what I hope to work on this year. More patience for my daughter, more patience for my boarding sons, more patience for my family and more patience to everyone. As we are all trying our best, and sometimes things get on top of us. Breathe first, respond second. Otherwise emotions leap forward with a wollop.
Peaches is entering nursery, or daycare if you will, very soon. Before officially starting nursery there are “settling in”, or taster, sessions. My partner took her to the first session - two hours long, he answered some developmental questions and watched her play (and almost completely ignored him). She took to it quickly and did not want to leave “school”.
I did not really know what all that or this meant. As everything is theoretical until put into practice first hand.
30 minutes ago I experienced it first hand. Woke her up from a nap telling her it was time for school, she squealed with delight and quickly got dressed. (What the what?! How is it suddenly not a fight to dress her?) We walked over, signed in, went into her designated classrooms and boom - off she went. I got an occasional glance, but not one with any kind of recognition. Suddenly I am Jo Nobody in her little world.
The nursery team let me know I could leave whenever I felt comfortable, and I could have left right then. But no. Instead I awkwardly stood around, looked at things on the wall, said hello to the children staring at me. If they could communicate better, I am pretty sure they would have said - “take a hint weirdo”.
No goodbye, I just slipped out of the room, signed out of the building and walked. Alone. Back into the school. (Stopping to give my husband a “WTF Time to Myself Boogie”.
Time to myself…. Especially unplanned time to myself.
What do I, how do I, should I….
I am lost.
And I guess that is what this, after two solid years of full time stay at home mum-dom, is going to be all about for me. She gets to socialise, grow, experience from outside my peripheal vision… and I get to.. relocate me. Check back in with that stranger who after a 32 year relationship took a backseat.
How do I even start? Sorry I ditched you, bae, you know I love you.
***Editor’s note : Children just love to prove you wrong, two days after I wrote this up Peaches broke out with impetigo.... so that was fun. Since she has recovered and returned to nursery she is having separation issues. Which is less fun than seeing her independently walk into the classroom of her peers.
Not an instructional blog but the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth - so help me Mom.