The feelings have returned.
Baby fever. Cooing, awe-ing and feeling a need to hold every baby I see. The newness. The potential. The bundle of messy, sleep depriving, love. Biology and this crazy human nature of wanting to continue the brood.
Before the school closed for the holidays, a trio of staff members came up to our corridor to do some works. When I opened our door I squealed as my eyes were immediately drawn to the few month old child one of them held (his own, do not worry). Thankfully he let me hold the little booger. So tiny. Still new to the world. Oh who will that little person be?
Peaches was not cool with it. But this is not about her, and Mama needed her baby fix.
I feel like everyone is suddenly getting pregnant, having more babies, trying for children and my envy of that is well hidden.This is all normal lady problems, phases, or passing fancies. Hormones, am I right?!
“I feel it in my fingers. I feel it in my toes. Babies are all around me, and so the feeling grows…”
Until last night when the shit felt very real.
We are sitting on the couch Christmas night, snuggled together watching the “Dr. Who” special feeling the warm glow of ( I AM SITTING AND WATCHING DOCTOR WHO WITH SOMEONE I MADE) being a family. Yet in this almost perfect moment I simultaneously felt a loss.
The missing of some future unknown as yet being.
When are they? Who are they?
I don’t know what the future holds. So I am just thinking about them for now.
I can feel myself slowly slipping away into the obscurity of an ageing woman. Thinking less about what I could accomplish and more about my daughter's (and any other offspring's) future.
Dressing to hide myself. Make myself less noticeable. Wearing more black to look smaller. Yet picking out the brightest, jolliest and flashiest apparel that we can afford for the child.
Keeping my opinion to myself instead of barfing out the first notion that comes to mind. Picking and choosing how or who I react to. Don't want to seem too pushy, outspoken or bossy, Thor forbid. And still egging my daughter to use her words, her voice and let us know her thoughts.
Is this what happens?
Is it society's fault or bullshit or both?
I see the marketing changing from '' YOU ARE THE FUTURE '' and '' WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO NEXT '' to '' ARE YOU REALLY THINKING ABOUT YOUR CHILD'S FUTURE '' and '' WHAT WILL YOU LEAVE BEHIND ''.
Ouch bots. Ouch.
Well I refuse to have a mid-life crisis. It is not a crisis, it is going to be a revolt. A midlife revolt. Take the Consumerism Spies. I am not yet mid-thirties, I am not going to be ignored as I am the now. We are all the now.
Happy Rant-urday muchachas.
In life, I did not always know where I was going but I had an enormous amount of hope. Hope that I would get my act together. Hope that I would stumble into a career of my dreams. Hope that I would find someone who loves me and I love in return. Hope that everything would come together after immigrating to England. Hope that my story would eventually wind up “having it all”.
What is having it all?
A loving and stable relationship? Amazing sex life? Career you love? Financial stability? Home of your own? Regular explorations from travel? An adorable pet? Healthy, beautiful family? Feeling like a valuable part of your community? Having a close knit community of love surrounding you?
Basically an enviable Instagram Worthy kind of life?
I spend a lot of time scrolling through other parental blogs - looking for….. something. Anything to tell me, “hey you are doing okay” or more likely “here is a detailed step-by-step guide on how I have it all and you can too.”
Nothing has yet squelched this need I have. It is a very needy need.
I want the career that gives satisfaction.
I want the comradery of lovely work colleagues.
I want the time with my child before she starts school.
I want the time with my partner, away from child doing grown up stuff.
I want the time with our families, to watch our relatives grow and change.
I want the time with myself to be creative, think of things and act upon them.
I want to be the best mother, provider, friend, colleague, relative, pet owner, and human being I can possibly be.
And until I am all those things, this needy little drive inside of “do better, be stronger, work harder, plan more, try again, not good enough, more-more-MORE!”
Now I feel guilty for being a whingemaster 3000 and listing all those “I wants”.
So now I'm off to scour haircuts/clothes/items (for a serotonin boast) that inevitably I will never get (for guilt reasons, food before fancies).
Not an instructional blog but the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth - so help me Mom.