“I just fed you”, I dramatically said, as my little man tried to get at my food. I was so pleased he ate all I gave him earlier; I thought he was full up and I could just relax and have my dinner by myself. In exasperation and to my mother’s amusement, I heard myself say,
‘I can’t eat, I can’t drink, I can’t sleep, I can’t go to the toilet, WITHOUT YOU; even when I’m out, I can’t get away from you not that I want to … you’re in my head and heart. I’m a mum, get me out of here …. quick, before I change my mind’.
I laughed as I said my comment, whilst my little boy paused, and starred at all my gesticulations. And then I scooped him up, put him on my laps and shared my food with me, as I have done many times since he started solids. Hmmmmm ….
Motherhood hey … it’s joys and nigglings. I obviously don’t want to be without my little boy but I sometimes faintly feel like running away.
Unlike I’ve heard many say, I do remember my life without him. They were good times, admittedly not as enriched or full of laughter and daily dramas, but good times nonetheless … carefree times. Oh yes, they were not as life changing … actually, quite mundane in many ways, but i liked them.
I could take my time with deep cleaning during the holidays, without worrying about my temporary piles being disturbed, or indeed causing any hazards. Going out was quicker and I didn’t feel bad for not planning meals in advance. I was obviously more carefree, and had less responsibilities. The only thing that had to be considered in getting alone time with the hubby was work, chores, and personal interests.
Bath time was only affected by when I had to leave the house for work or outings, except for the time the shower had some work done to it.
I had a laissez faire approach to many things, including toilet time. I went when I fancied without worrying about who else was in the house, or with me when I was out and about. I didn’t give any thought to how quick or slow I was in finishing my business there. There was definitely no one crying ‘mummy’, ‘mummy’ outside the door. And I sure didn’t ever consider it okay to have the toilet door opened when you’re pants down on the toilet seat.
My boobs were my own and the thought that someone could cry to get access to them was never a though. In fact, in all my life I’ve never been so concerned for, nor comfortably conversed so much about breasts. Seriously, I didn’t know what life-giving, sleep-inducing, warmth-oozing, distress-pacifying, pain-relieving etc asset I carried around everyday.
And poo … I didn’t know you could tell so much from its frequency and texture. I didn’t know one could need so much energy and go through such a range of emotions cleaning it up. Talking about it was definitely not my norm; and you wouldn’t find me with uncovered nose amidst its stink.
Sleep was definitely not an obsession, or something I had to find time to do, … or make happen for someone else or else! When someone slept, how much they slept for, how often they had to sleep, when they stopped sleeping was no concern of mine.
My word, I could eat in peace, and at my pace. I didn’t have to worry about where the cup of water was placed and who had access to it. My plate was secure enough on the table or stool, and I could dash to the kitchen to get something I forgot without fear or need for a security guard.
As for the TV, I didn’t have to wait for someone to sleep or go out to switch it on, and ‘screen time’ didn’t have a prominent place in my vocabulary.
Going to work was uneventful; I never needed an exit strategy for this. I mean, how many times can you say, ‘don’t cry’, ‘bye’ or ‘cuddle mummy’ before disappearing through the door?
I never thought sitting down or solely lying on my bed could be such a luxury … hmmmmm.
When I moved around, I didn’t have to check the floor for toys or worry about tripping over because of a little person holding on to my legs, and looking up with love filled eyes, saying, ‘muuuuuummmmy’, ‘muuuuuummmmy’.
Oh yes, there was no hoping against hope that my early morning quiet times would stay quiet for as long as I needed it to be.
I could go on and on and on and on and on about my pre-motherhood life.
My mum can’t understand why I would want to eat by myself when I have a child; for her that’s one of the delights of motherhood. She thinks sleep will be easier when my toddler stops or reduces breastfeeding, and as for the toilet, I just need to keep the door closed and my toddler will learn to accept it.
Okay, we should really eat at the same time, but sometimes this woman really just wants to eat alone without any disturbance. There’s something really enjoyable about that, isn’t it? As for breastfeeding, I’ve told my mum I regularly read comments from mums who are not breastfeeding but still deal with undesirable night wakes. And the toilet … well, I’d rather open the door and let him see me in all my un-glory than listen to him cry. Thankfully, he is understanding more and more that I need to go to the toilet alone.
I mean, when do children start smelling; I can’t wait for him to notice that pool stinks and it’s better to be far away from it.
So there you have it … I occasionally … faintly want to run away from being mum, and my life before mummydom was alright. But I barely need to think about it to change my mind.
I’m thankful I’m a mum, and I’m so glad I’m here to watch my little man grow, and walk with him as he develops.
I’m a mum, it’s too late to get me out of here. 🙂
Do you ever feel like this?
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