Current mood: Knackered!
Number of times I’ve cried: I’m not counting anymore so stop asking yeah?
Number of work outfits trashed: One (I’ll explain more later…)
After the adrenaline rush of my first day I’ve totally crashed and burned and don’t mind admitting that the first week back at work has been bloody hard.
Every morning I have to wrench myself away from her sleepy smiles and have a little cry in the car then compose myself for a day at work because even though everyone is lovely they don’t really care that I’ve had a baby, my emotions and hormones are all over the place, I’m suffering a major crisis of confidence and that I live with the constant threat of a leaky boob showing up on my oh so pristine new work clothes. Well they were until Willow wiped snot on my shoulder yesterday morning. (I must just tell you at this point about daddy daycare’s birthday meal last night where he trashed one of my new work skirts when leaping up to stop Willow choking on a piece of sausage and knocking a whole pint of beer into my starter, onto my lap and into my lovely fierce leopard print shoes wah! Seeing as it was his birthday I only sulked for five minutes). Today I got an ‘oh you’re leaving at 4:30pm’ eye roll which felt like a punch in the stomach. Well yes I am leaving now because I don’t know anyone who can breastfeed my child at this short notice much less want to given the teeth and talons she deploys like a Wolverine every time I get my boob out. Only a mother’s love will carry you through this tortuous but wonderful act.
I know things will get easier and I know that I’m more than capable of getting back into the swing of things its just that I don’t know if I want to yet. My head and my heart want totally different things. My head is saying, ‘this is your career, pull yourself together, prove yourself and put food on the table.’ My heart is telling me to stick it to the man! I want to sit with her while she eats breakfast and let her cover me in porridge and banana. I want us to still be in our pjs at 12pm on rainy days because we don’t have to go out and are too busy playing. I want to be back at the baby groups safe in the pack with the other mums and I miss doing the little things that became our lovely routine like buying fruit at the local market every Tuesday.
The green eyed monster is also rearing its ugly head. Daddy daycare seems to be taking full time parenting in his stride. They’ve been up and dressed and at activities every day. He’s cleaned, done the washing and had tea on the table every night! I never managed this. How is he better at this than me? In truth he never had to do any of the early days stuff when she was feeding every two hours and would only go to sleep on me. Lovely for bonding but there was no hope of getting any housework, showering or eating of lunch done. I’m the one that stayed at home and learned through trial and screaming error what she likes and doesn’t like, what keeps her occupied or wailing like a banshee (give her both snacks out of the packet instead of just one – judge all you like, I just want an easy life). However, it’s because of these times that we have such a strong bond and to that end I like to think he’s learnt how to care for her from the best (smug wink).
Whinge, whinge, moan, moan….. Change the bloody record love! (I will soon I promise – writing this blog is ace, like free therapy – yes!) As a mum I’ve deduced that we are very rarely satisfied in our current situations. I pined for my old no responsibility life after Willow was born and swallowed me whole into the world of mamahood. Now I’m pining for my pre work life even though I love my job and know I’ll get my work mojo back soon. What’s next? Most likely pining for when she wasn’t mobile as she starts to go on search and destroy missions around the house/supermarket/library/anywhere she can get her hands on.
My lovely reward for grinding the millstone is the smile that lights up her beautiful little face when I walk in the door. It is just the world to me and then we get a couple of hours of heavenly play before bed time during which time super daddy can be the one to run round like a blue arsed fly clearing the pots, dirty nappies and snotty muslin cloths that accumulate during the day. This is our precious time and not time to be wasted wallowing in self pity because quite frankly Willow doesn’t give a crap about my self induced dramas when there is a Peppa Pig tea set to be gnawed on and wafer to be dreadlocked into my hair.
Tomorrow is particularly exciting, it’s Friday (my day off so we get to have our porridge/banana fest in the morning) but also we are off to Manchester to the Mamas Collective to hear the lovely Anna Whitehouse from Mother Pukka talk about her blog and parenting the shit out of life in general. It will also be Willow’s first time on a train. This could be interesting… I’ll let you know how we get on!