Guilty as charged

I love my girls.

They (and my husband) are my world.

But sometimes I just need a little space.

To save me from going bat shit crazy, to put it bluntly.

Yes my friends, this mum guilt we often hear about is very much a real thing in all its glory.

The guilt path is one that takes many forms.

When you have one child, you wonder if you’re doing enough for them and feel like you have forgotten the rest of the world.

When a second offspring enters the ring you feel bad the first child has lost your attention, let alone anyone else in your life.

I’m not even going to ponder the prospect of what it’s like with more kids….

And it doesn’t end there.

Once you find your rhythm again, the power of the mummy brain coerces you to get back to a normal life.

But why do we feel guilty about taking some time for ourselves?

Let’s face it I can barely take a shower or pee in peace without hearing “mummy” echoing off the walls.

So when an opportunity for freedom presents itself, my mind starts to do crazy flips of reasons why I shouldn’t go.

I have no problem physically walking away from the girls.

In fact more often than not I’m halfway out the door ready to yell “freedom” banshee style.

But I always have this fleeting thought about the person who’s left with the girls and what they might be missing out on.

It’s funny how as Mums (and yes sometimes dads too) we put ourselves last.

It’s some kind of built-in mechanism that switches on the very second a little person comes crashing into your life.

I often joke that I’m no longer Sheree, I’m Izzie and Phoebe’s mummy.

The old Sheree left the building and was replaced by someone who is now responsible for two tiny humans.

I’m not delusional.

I’m well aware life is different these days.

No more spur-of-the-moment dinner dates with friends (well not at a restaurant anyway), no random late night drives to get ice cream (except to eat at home) and definitely no big drinking sessions.

Who am I kidding I never really did the last one anyway, haha!

But I’m really starting to learn that even as a mum (or dad) it’s important to still do things for ourselves.

So yes it has taken me a couple of years to come to this conclusion but better late than never right?!

I’m off to do something for myself….but what about…..oh never mind (haha!).

A moment of reflection

Life sure is different these days.

Both good and bad.

When I became a mother I feel like I said goodbye to a big part of me.

Don’t get me wrong I love being a mum to my two beautiful girls, but I do miss aspects of my pre-baby life.

Aside from the fact I could go to the toilet in peace, I could eat chocolate without having to share, sleep was amazing and going out could be a spur-of-the-moment decision.

And, well…..people used to visit to see us but now it’s really to see the girls.

I can hear you all (well those who visit anyway) saying “but but but…I come to see you too!”

Once again that’s another story.

But after a rough day yesterday where I spent quite some time yelling at my toddler and trying to stop her from killing her sister, I almost feel like giving up.

I honestly felt like the worst mum in the world.

Mummy guilt sure can knock you for six.

I looked out the door and thought about what could be on the other side.

(Freedom!!!! Just kidding!)

But then something magical happened.

I thought about the good stuff like when Miss Izzie hugged and kissed me for no reason and Miss Phoebe gave me one of her gummy big smiles.

And once again things fell into place.

Well after a sneaky piece of chocolate anyway.

Wine would have been better.
Damn this breastfeeding business (haha!).

I’ve never lied about parenting being a hard gig.

There’s no point.

Earlier this week one of my lovely pregnant friends asked if it was hard juggling a toddler and a newborn.

My response was giving birth is easier than dealing with a toddler and a baby right now.

Probably a tad over dramatic (yes I know labour/birth is not easy for everyone) but combining a temperamental toddler with a crying baby doesn’t always result in a good outcome, particularly when daddy is at work!

Especially when it comes to dinner, bath and bedtime!

I mean sitting with a two-year-old for half an hour (or maybe more) while she picks at a small plate of fish fingers, salad and sauce could drive the most sane person crazy!

Who knew eating just sauce constituted a meal?!

But once again I survived, gritted my teeth and kept going.

Why?

Because I have to, I’m meant to and two little girls rely on me to make their world keep moving.

And most importantly because……I am mum.

Feeding frenzy

It’s official.

I’m just a milk machine again.

Our latest little bundle of joy is now almost two weeks old and very much settled into the household.

Miss Phoebe (yep, another girl has joined the ranks) had a quick entrance into the world surprising us all by arriving both before an anticipated induction and after only two and half hours of labour (no pain relief either!).

Now that you’ve finished cursing me for being lucky it’s time to sympathize instead (haha)!

My eyes are hanging out of my head, my boobs have a mind of their own and my belly looks like a deflated balloon.

Things could be worse but life is certainly very different the second time around.

Yes newborns are kind of predictable as they mostly eat, sleep, poo and repeat.

But throw an energetic, inquisitive toddler into the mix and it does change things….big time!

I must admit we are coping much better than I thought.

Although there have been many tears (pretty much all mine) and a few arguments (mainly started by me), we are working well as a team.

I’m not sure exactly what I was expecting to happen but it’s certainly been an experience and a time of adjustment….and it’s only the beginning!

I have and am still going through mummy guilt for Miss Izzie.

My husband keeps telling me I’m being silly but what would he know right?! (Haha!)

She’s gone from having my full attention to having to share it in the blink of an eye.

So far, apart from showering her baby sister in kisses and cuddles, and a few attempts at giving her scraps of food, we seem to be doing okay.

She has been helping with nappy changes and grabbing things for mummy and daddy too.

I dread the day I see her trying to really help mummy by carrying Miss Phoebe or even dragging her across the floor (yikes)!

As I keep reminding myself every little aspect of this new adventure is all part of the fun of parenting.

We’re revisiting parts of it again having a newborn in the house but we’re also learning what it’s like to juggle two at a time.

They’re still fighting fit and that’s a good start.

Anything that goes wrong from here is their father’s fault (just kidding)!

Although it will be interesting to see how things go once he returns to work.

We’ll save that story for another day.

But for now I’m mostly enjoying being a new mummy for the second time, especially with snuggly newborn cuddles.

On that note, it looks like it’s milk machine time……again!