POLAND

This weekend was the first weekend in my 3 years of motherhood I have ever taken time out to be ‘me’. 

 Unless I was giving birth, I have never spent this much time away from my children. And the apprehension leading upto the weekend was crazy. I tried to cancel it 4 times, make out I was poorly anything to stop me from leaving my three tiny beloved turds. 

 I moan I’m being driven batshit crazy when I’m with them, then I become and emotional uncontrollable mess when I’m without them. 

Ahh the mother guilt hit me strong and hard. I felt physically sick and anxious whilst traveling to the airport, demanding answers from my questions, ‘what if Parker doesn’t sleep and he needs me?’, ‘what if he doesn’t drink formula milk and he becomes dehydrated and Ill from thirst?’, ‘what if something bad happens and I can’t control it?’. 

But us mummies need to realise how important it is to take a break and recharge from being the over worked, tired mummy and become YOU again. Become Beksie, for just three days and enjoy being me. I left my ‘mummy of three cloak’ upon the door as I left and shut it behind me.

Since being away for 3 days, which believe me has been significantly difficult. Like trying to separate something stuck between a layer of superglue, I feel refreshed. Recharged and in control. I return home ready to face new challenges motherhood throws at me, I get ready to embark on a new career. A career I want to progress and allow my creativity to enhance. 

Like most mums, we don’t really appreciate how much we juggle and keep the house in order, from family and working life daily. My week combines working from home trying to take a bespoke crafts company off as well as 20 hours a week in a busy successful fashion retailer, I look after my children, try to do my best in teaching my ridiculously strong willed and full of sass profoundly deaf daughter her way in life as much as she teaches me new boundary levels of patience and try my best to keep the house and laundry tidy and clean, but I am not a mummabot. In the words of the rag and bone man ‘I’m only human after all’ so I need time for me. I need to recharge and become a stronger, happier, and a better mother for my children.

Having time away from your little bundles of sunshines, or in my case cling on little turds is essential. It doesn’t mean you don’t love them if you want some time to yourself. It doesn’t mean you are vain or selfish if you take time to get your hair or have that long awaited soak in the tub without feeling pressured to get out by your son turning red in the face and boarder line turning into a mini monster from screaming at the top of his lungs because he wants titty milk and you’ve gone an extra 30cm too far for his liking. Go to the gym, or do something you love – ditching the guilt is the first step towards becoming a better parent.

As the saying goes, ‘You can’t pour from an empty kettle’. 

‘I didn’t think I’d feel guilty about popping out to get some shopping never mind returning to work for 20 hours. Or nipping to be gym for an hour. Or going for dinner with a friend. Or indeed – blitzing the house top to bottom barely paying any attention other than popping your head around the door to ensure they’re playing nicely and not in fact attempting murder on one another. But I do. MUM GUILT!’

From the day my child arrived guilt overwhelmed me. Feeling of a split personality – one half of me ruthlessly creatively ambitious with a million dreams and ambitions buzzing around my head to be the next in house designer or the next creative media producer – the other half just wanted to stay at home for the rest of The trios childhood – baking cakes, reading stories, colouring in and teaching them all they need to know about life, like the mother you follow on Instagram who uploads heavenly photos of the things they’re doing with their children…You know, replicate that perfect fairy tale mother.

We’re only human after all, ditch the mum guilt. 

x

Published by Mothering Silence

A late twenty-something mother of two boys and a profoundly deaf diva of almighty sass. In between splitting spontaneous sibling wars, curiatimg pillow forts and channeling inner superheroes. Mothering Silence documents a brutally honest truth of the trials and tribulations of motherhood. (The toughest hood.) Here you'll find the weekly ramblings of the rollercoaster life of my journey in motherhood. *Please note my style of writing is tongue in cheek.

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