On October 7th 2012 my life changed forever as my eldest son was born.
Until that moment I had no idea how much my life would change, all through my pregnancy I was determined that the baby would fit around our life rather than the other way round.
How little I knew.
Then on the 16th April 2015 we added yet more chaos to the mix with our youngest son.
For the last five years near enough my life has been a whirlwind of managing nap time, food time, milk time, play time and bed time.
Oh my, bed time. The less said about that the better.
For the last five years my life has revolved around children. Their needs. Their wants. Coupled with two international moves.
And some days I feel lost in motherhood
I feel that my sense of self is sometimes so hidden under the fact that I am a mum I forget that I am a wife, a daughter, a friend. I forget that I am myself.
I don’t take the time to recharge and practice the self care mindfulness I see posted on my Facebook timeline as I mindlessly scroll through without really looking.
The nights where I am so spent from the kids that I don’t open my mouth to engage in conversation with my husband. I sit open mouthed on the couch, gormless. Scrolling. Flicking through the tv. Half watching, half not. When I could be talking to my best friend, to the man who promised to show me the world and is. To the one person I can tell anything at any time to. The man who supports me in all I am and all I do. Yet I’m too exhausted to say anything.
When I should go out with friends and I feel like I am so far removed (though give me some wine and before you know it I forget I am a responsible mother of two….) that I’m boring. A bit meh.
Day after day when I know I should be exercising, be doing something, I choose to sit. I don’t run. I don’t go boxing. Circuits would most definitely fell me if I tried them now. Yet I have a lack of energy to go, a lack of care about myself.
Yet I do care.
I care deeply.
About my husband, my children, my friends.
I care about their lives, our lives, my life.
I am interested in people. The ins, the outs, you could call it nosy.
Yet somedays I feel lost. Lost in motherhood.
Like I have nothing left to give
I love the days out we do, I enjoy watching the wonder of my boys faces as we take them somewhere new and the places we have seen this summer have been incredible. We’ve had wonderful days, good days, average days and downright shit days. We’ve had the whole spectrum.
But the focus has generally been them.
And whilst I love my children with all my heart, whilst I am grateful for every second I have them with me, I need time to be me.
I just don’t always know how.
How to flip out of the role of just being mum and start being Laura.
From the moment they wake up to the moment they sleep I am mum. Then I come down and write. A parenting blog. About being a mum.
But I’m more than a mum
It is not my identity. It is not all of me.
I am a mum.
But I’m so much more than that.
I love to bake, to eat cake and chocolate and sweets. I hate to run but I love the satisfaction that it gives me, better than that I do love to go to circuit class. I wouldn’t go as far as to say I enjoy burpees but who does. I love learning, finding about about history, seeing the olden days brought alive. The thrill of rollercoaster and the swirly feeling in your tummy. I am enjoying having a new camera, learning to take new photos, new memories. I adore to read, to immerse myself in a world of words. I love people, talking, conversation, socialising. Dancing. Laughing.
I love my husband. His laugh, his sarcasm, his dreadful sense of humour.
I love my friends.
I love my kids.
I am complicated yet so simple.
I am mum. Yet I am more. And I need to remember that whenever I feel lost in motherhood.