I’ve talked about my inner child before – about the desperate diva throwing toddler-esque tantrums, spitting out my dummy when I’m faced with endless, thankless, relentless demands when all I want to do is hide under my duvet, quiet and alone. Recently my inner gargoyle has raised her ugly head (and voice) more than I care to remember (will my kids? is the question that keeps me awake some nights). The overwhelming overwhelmingness of my life right now is giving my spoilt brat inside a sustained sugar hit. All that new baby neediness, and the responsibilities of my mum’s illness has me screeching up the walls some days. And then last week on Mother’s Day I read an article by Eleanor Mills in the Sunday Times. It was about this modern generation of spoilt brats, pissed off with parenting, done in by the demands, and resentful of relentless crappy work. It got me thinking. This is what I signed up for. I wanted a busy family, a noisy household. The last six months as I’ve struggled with three under the age of 6, my mum’s voice plays over in my head, “well, you wanted three!”. It was my choice. And I wouldn’t change it. And I don’t know whether it was the article, or some level of acceptance with my mum’s situation, or the fact that at six months I’m finally getting to grips with this baby lark, but I’ve tentatively realised my inner gargoyle isn’t so petulant these days. In fact, my inner child has been having a bit of a field day of late – in a good way. I’ve been bouncing on the trampoline with gay abandon, freewheeling on my bike down the road, singing our Everything Has To Be a Song Days with gusto and generally remembering how to be a fun mum again. Oh the gargoyle is only resting no doubt, but I hope she has taken a permanent back seat. I hope I am slowly stumbling out of the haze of the last 6 months, and beginning to see life again through the eyes of a child, and the heart and maturity of a mother.
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Totally know where you are coming from! I had 3 under 18 months (a set of twins and another 18 months later) and some days I was ready for the hills. I remember one day – the day Bill Clinton came to Belfast many many years ago – I had reached the end of my tether. Hubby arrived home and I literally handed him the crying kids, lifted the car keys and drove off to get away from it all. Needless to say I arrived home a couple of hours later and everyone was settled and happy!It sounds as if you are doing a great job and it DOES get easier as they get older xx
Another beautiful post, you write them so well, lovely to read!
I can relate to the inner child… inner 'bratty' child, that is. I have even likened myself to being stuck in the 'terrible two's' of adulthood in an earlier post on my blog.
But like yourself, I just need to remember the great parts of being a Mama. How there is NOTHING else like it and that I'm blessed and so grateful to be given the gift of 2 little boys. However hard it might be.
It's great that you have emerged on the other side with such positivity as a child and a mother :o)
We all need days when we bounce on a trampoline and freewheel down the road. It's a great way of escaping all those adult responsibilities for a while. Long may it last. It will all get easier as the girls grow up. Hang in there and keep singing!
i am so happy to hear you say this. i can absolutely feel your sun shining through this post.
It must be tough for you but this is the way to go forward – to remember that this is what you signed up for and, before you know it, they will be all grown up and gone so ENJOY THEM NOW!