Well. I meant to write and I didn’t. I meant to do a lot of things but I have two children under two. Nearly two under one when B was born. 14 months and 3 days separate my first and last born. In 2 years I went from being sure I could never have children to two small people running my world. I lost my job, lost my horse and have learnt more about dairy than I knew possible. 6 months in there is time to breathe. It’s time to find out who I am now.
I am Tori. I am mum of two. I am a survivor of two bouts of PND and anxiety. I am an allergy mum. I am a baby wearer. I am a wife. I am part of a community of mum’s I am privileged and proud to know.
I used to be a horse rider, project manager, avid reader, comic drinker, individual.
So what now? Is my life reading food labels, negotiating bed times and the never ending laundry. Is there a way for pre and post me to combine? This is my way of getting it back a bit, alongside hoping to share some humour.
So as a starter for ten in my new life here are things I’ve learnt this week:
I can’t do this alone.
I am fiercely independent. I’ve been called stubborn. As a mule. In fact I could probably teach that mule a thing or two. Or six dozen. But I believe in parenting by community and my children benefit. We help each other out. We laugh, we cry, we wipe each others children’s bodily fluids and my friends have seen more of my boobs in the last 6 months than my husband would be comfortable with if he didn’t know they don’t care.
Even if I insist on carrying both the babies, the changing bag and all. I do rely and value all the help I get.
Sleep is actually for the weak
At least so my children say. But they all sleep eventually. Believe me. If Edward can start to ‘sleep through’ any child can.
Sleep envy is real and evil
Honestly I could murder anyone sleeping in front of me. A cold hard murder. With patios. And spoons a good spoon.
Cbeebies is both heaven and he’ll
And yes Mr Bloom is now my version of eye candy and I wake up singing chuggington.
I love my friends children until it hurts
I never knew I could. They are awesome. I am proud of them. I would die for them.
I would kill for my own though.
I mean rip your heart out with my own hands if you hurt them. Protecting them whilst not smothering them with the weight of this love – as much of a challenge as not eating the whole packet of hobnobs.
6 months in there is space to breathe.
And wash (even if it’s three in a tub) and I think I managed a wee alone yesterday. Heavenly.
So littlest little is stirring for more boobs but as I start this I owe a huge thank you to those who in the last 21 months have helped me come to a place where I can think about more than just:
Wake up, survive, go back to bed. X