mummy has a life?

If I'm totally honest, it wasn't until I had my own kids that it hit me.  That my mum had a life outside of me.  That she is a person who has hopes and dreams, frustrations and feelings.  Someone who has made sacrifices and denied herself things throughout her life.

When I lived at home, it was an inconvienence if Mum got sick (it didn't happen very often), if she wasn't there for me, it was annoying (because she was always there for me) and if we went out shopping for her, it always ended up being for me.  Mum was just there. She was great. She was the perfect mum.  She was my security rock.  I could never see a time when I wouldn't need her.  But I never thought about her as a person, not really.  It was all about me. I admit it. I totally took my parents foregranted. It makes me cringe now looking back.

Most people harp on about how their mum is their inspiration, best friend, blah, blah, blah. And while that's true in some way for most of us, do we really know who they are and what they have done for us?

It was a strange realisation when it hit me. How selfish I was, and that I knew nothing about my mum as a woman. Her favourite colour, music, flower... her loves and regrets... her life story... 

So I set out to change that and one night last year, we sat together and I scribbed down her life story, and I'm so glad I did because what a life story it is (I could write a novel about my mum's life)...  I want my kids to know her story when they got older, because it is inspiring and colourful and dramatic, but this post isn't about that.

No this post is asking, is this how all kids treat their parents? Will mine do the same to me? But then I am not as selfless as my mum.  I regularly tell my kids that, "It's not always about you, or how you feel". It's that old 'nature' or 'nurture' question again isn't it?

I thought I'd add a nice cheesy picture with this post!

 

why I like to wear nice clothes (even though I don't always need to)

Me. two weeks into motherhood...my wardrobe of black.

I lost my identity a bit when I had my first baby. To be honest I didn't know what hit me. I was totally unprepared for how I felt. My husband and I were newly emigrated (from London) and in a strange city (Adelaide then Melbourne), where we had no friends, family or support network. I found myself alone and bewildered whilst my husband worked, trying to establish his career in this new home of ours.

I fell pregnant kind of by accident. I had to change pill brands when we arrived in Australia, and I took a two week break. Never thinking for a moment that I'd get pregnant. My husband and I had grand plans for our life here, that required two full time incomes so that we could indulge in our passion for scuba diving, eating out, saving up for a cool house by the sea and generally being a spontaneous couple in love. We had backpacked round Australia prior to moving here and were just so happy to be in this wonderful, sunny country...

After the shock of discovering I was pregnant (I was shocked, not necessarily happy shocked), I was pleased to discover how much I loved it. I felt fantastic and really did feel like I was blooming. I was nervous but excited at the prospect of being a mum, and I just thought I'd be fine. It didn't occur to me that I might struggle.

But once my perfect little boy was born, I was overwhelmed by how unprepared I was for motherhood, I felt adrift and confused and just stopped being 'me'. I missed my husband, I grieved for our old life, I resented having to give every waking moment to someone else. Of course I loved my baby, I just couldn't juggle it all, and I felt guilty. I missed my mum and having someone close by to help me. This resulted in me looking awful too. For the first time ever, I didn't even think about how I looked. I have never been high maintenance or vain, I'm very average, but I had always loved clothes and shoes. I just stopped going out. I didn't relate to any of the perfect mothers group mums and I allowed myself to wallow in feeling and looking like crap. I swapped my heels for cheap trainers (!) and thongs, and forgot about the old me, I resigned myself to drab. Looking back at photos of those days now, still fills me with such a rush of confused emotion.

A couple of years later, we moved to Queensland. I had number two, our sweet little girl and amazingly, I felt better! I found I could do it all second time round and everything seemed easier, I was getting back some control and order. I made some real friends and the cloud slowly started to lift. But it wasn't until I started work again that I suddenly 'found' my old self again. I can't tell you how wonderful it felt (this is sad I know) to have a reason to put on a smart dress and pair of heels. It gave me a reason to get up in the morning (other than the kids and the normal routine).

I have now been working, part time, as a Media Manager for a local ad agency (working around the kids) for over five years now, and I still love it. Sometimes I consider getting a 'proper job' full time, but we'll see... For now, I have this blog to work on, and it's something just for me. The old me. It's not about family, or my kids, it's just light hearted fluff, passing comments that I make to myself. I don't really give a shit if anyone reads it or not. Besides, it gives me a legitimate reason to look at boobs...