Mindful Mummy

I had a big plan this morning to spend possibly my last day with my toddler, just him and me. I head back to work soon, either casually or full time depending on whether I get my dream job or not, so I figured there wasn't much time left to enjoy just us time. He gets a bit neglected sometimes, the poor little guy, what with the infant needing constant supervision to stop him killing himself, so I really wanted to reconnect with him.

I thought we'll head out for breakfast, go to the aquarium, spend an hour or two there and then have some lunch somewhere to finally come home for him to nap.

Well.....

We went to Maccas for breakfast where he peed on the floor (with a nappy on & without wetting his shorts - proud moment!) which resulted in a glare from Fit Mum in her Active wear probably drinking her triple shot decaf soy half foam low fat mochachino. I shot her an 'Eat a Dick' look of my own whilst cleaning up the wee and then we went to play in the playland for a bit.

We then drove half an hour to spend a total of 10 minutes in the aquarium before having a sensory meltdown & demanding we go home. It was 10am and my plans were down the toilet.

Now even just 6 months ago, this would have ruined my day. No, my WEEK. I mean, the plan man. THE PLAN! I'm a list person. I need to tick things off my list to feel accomplished. I need to stick to the plan and if not the plan, then the back up plan. I mean, how else do you fend off the chaos ffs? People that 'just wing it' are freaks who should not be trusted.

Oh and the judgement from that random person whom I'll probably never meet again? Well that probably would have tipped me over the edge. I would have come straight home, cried, and told myself that Fit Mum was going to write a letter to the Department of Child Safety to have my children removed being that I was clearly an unfit mother.

But today, it actually didn't bother me. Instead of the plan - on the way home he calmed down and asked to go shopping. I had a lovely day with him sitting in the trolley laughing and trying on the $1 shoes I bought him, and me appreciating what an awesome kid I have.

A little bit of mindfulness seems to be working for me. I've been working pretty hard on being mindful and 'in the moment'. I'm trying not to dwell on the 'what ifs' and the 'should do' and instead focus on the 'is'. My plan, is to realise that plans and toddlers generally don't work. My plan is to be accepting of the fact that we may aim to do something and it won't work out because one or both of my children will wake up that morning screaming "NOT TODAY SATAN!!" My plan is to accept that some days I'm Mary freaking Poppins, and some days I eat chocolate for breakfast and we don't leave the house.
Sure, the plan today didn't go as it did in my head. My toddler didn't read his emailed itinerary obviously. But I've gotta say that relinquishing a bit of the control has been very uplifting.

I've also had to let go of the GUILT. This is a scenario I'm sure many of you are familiar with:

ME: I'm going to clean the house today.

CROTCH NUGGET: LOLZ! *power spew*

ME: FML.

CN: I'm a koala bear today! Pick me up! WAAAAA!

ME AT 4pm: Jesus! Is that the fucking time? Well paint me green and call me gumby. I'm the worst housewife in the world. I haven't even done the dishes. How do all the other woman nail this? Like, 100% of all the other women nail this. I know for a FACT that every other mother in the world is able to look after the kids, and clean the house, and have a career, and they even do it with lipstick on. And they probably have play dates planned weeks in advance. I haven't even brushed my HAIR today! My children are going to grow up and hate me because I can't get my FUCKING SHIT together! What the fuck is wrong with me?! Why is everyone else far more superior to me at this? God I need a drink.....

Me today:

My kid was happy. He was fed. He fell asleep in the car. We went out, and nothing blew up. Happy fucking days my friends. Happy. Fucking. Days.

I got home and saw a post about a mum struggling with the whole not being able to make plans because of her kids. And I thought - I hear ya sister. But let me let you in on a secret - if you make plans with friends and have to cancel because your kids have turned into Chucky - your friends will understand. And if they don't understand - you need new friends.

All of my mum friends have cancelled on me with short to no notice and I have done the same. That's how it goes. Sickness, tantrums, sleep times and logistics - it's pretty much a military exercise to line up schedules to catch up with people and when you do, guaranteed there'll be an outbreak of hand foot bloody mouth at kindy which will ensure you're quarantined for that week.

Give into the chaos. Expect the unexpected as it were. As every mother's good friend Elsa says - Let it go. Let it go.

Cheers,

Qld Nurse.

2 under 2 - I'm invincible now just so you know.

As of a couple of months ago I became a mother again to another gorgeous little boy making me a mum of 2 boys under 2. Now, this time, things went a little more smoothly and he was born at almost term. We both weren't close to death, we didn't spend weeks in hospital, and he has a lot less health complications than our first son. I'd like to say he's an easier baby, but the truth is, he's just a baby born almost when he was supposed to be and didn't weigh less than a litre of milk. He's just a normal (ish) baby.

I thought having one baby was hard. But my eldest goes to daycare a few days a week so I could work, and now I'm on leave I see no harm in continuing his routine. Which leaves me with just a baby 3 days a week and wondering what the bloody hell I did with all my spare time when I only had one child, and even more so for when I was childless. Seriously. I get a shit tonne more done in 15 minutes now than I ever have!

If you're one of those mums that manages to get your baby into the same routine as your toddler, and can have them both clean at the same time, and in shorts that match the shirt that has absolutely no boogers or stains on it, please send me a link to your book because you're obviously a fucking genius and a way better person than I am. My house is in a constant state of organised chaos now. To the point that I've made a mental note to make sure I wash my hair on Sundays, because I forget when the last time was that I had long enough in the shower to wash it, and before you know it there's a clump of jam in it and I'm wondering if people notice the smell. #MILF right??

I've given up hope of ever having a fully clean house ever again and the best I can hope for is at least one room to be cleaned a day & the dishwasher on....on a good day. But I'm honestly OK with it. It's how I'm coping and my mental health is right on track, unlike last time. So I figure if my house is a mess, but my mind isn't, it's pretty much a fucking win. Happy mum, happy everyone!

I didn't join a mother's group with my first born, mostly because I was hating on anyone that didn't have it as tough as I did, but also because I didn't know that Queensland Health runs free information sessions for new mums, that, as a result, often end up in a mother's group. I have with my new bub, and I went along with an open mind, hoping the mother's in my group were not anything like the judgemental thundercunts that I met when I joined some online mother's groups. Luckily, they aren't! I see myself becoming good friends with a few of them. I mean, anyone that casually drops fuck or shit into a sentence within 2 hours of meeting me, is pretty much guaranteed a place in my heart. Unless they say they're a vegan Scientologist as well, then all bets are off.

Anyway, meeting these brand new mums, with these brand new tiny people to look after has reminded me of myself when I was them. I forgot how shit scared I was. How unsure I was. How I was so worried that at any moment, someone would see through my smile and jokes and realise I had no fucking idea what I was doing and was barely coping with this huge new responsibility. I saw so much of myself in these mums - the strain behind the tired eyes but smiling mouth; the off the cuff comment about sleep deprivation; the questions that are asked slightly in jest, but not really; the strained laugh at the shit explosion hiding the exasperation that it's the 4th time that morning and you've really had enough; the second guessing everything from whether you should have put socks on to whether the formula is gonna screw up their brain cells.

Now, I am by no means mother of the year, but the 2nd time round I'm not as hard on myself. I don't need to be mother of the year to love my kids and raise them to have good morals. My good enough, is good enough. I am now aware, that having a bad day, does not make me a bad mother. Wanting some time away from my kids doesn't mean I love them any less. There are a million different ways to raise a child, and none of them are necessarily the 'right' or 'wrong' way. I've screwed up so many times it wasn't funny. But my toddler is still alive. He's a happy, relatively healthy (bloody daycare viruses/toast & jam is a balanced meal right?), friendly, social, smart, frustrating kid and he still loves me even though I didn't get it 100% right 100% of the time. I'm not telling myself that I should be doing something or that my baby should be doing something, because the truth is that there IS no should. Kids are really awesome in the fact that they give you a fair amount of leeway in the amount that you can cock up before they start eating chicken hearts & sacrificing goats to the sun god. It's cool to admit that you don't know everything; it doesn't mean Child Services are gonna come knocking.

I wish I knew then what I know now. So I want to tell my new mumma friends this:

Chill.

It won't always be this hard - some days it will be harder, and some easier, but you will survive, and so will your kid. Every day your child will present a new challenge to you and you will have days where you think you can't do it anymore. However you feel, it's ok to feel that way. Whether you think it's silly or not, talk to someone about it and don't dismiss your feelings as stupid or wrong. It's completely fine, and highly suggested to ask for help when you need it. You help no one, especially your child, trying to be a martyr and do everything yourself. What's right for your kid may not be right for mine, or hers, or his. Just do what works for your family and don't apologise for it. Fuck the haters man.

I guess I'm writing this after having such a long time between drinks because seeing new mums like deer in the headlights reminds me that I'm doing ok. I just need reminding sometimes. So hopefully this helps you too. Or a friend of yours. 

Now go and have a glass of wine and put your feet up. You deserve it. You made a human!

Cheers,

Qld Nurse.

Oh hai!

So I haven't blogged in a while.

Because (in case you couldn't tell by the rage and spelling errors) I mostly blogged when I was drunk and have fired up over something. Like vaccinations, stupid parenting advice, or generally just dumb people that have pissed me off. (Side note: I re-read my vaccination blog and drunk or no, I was pretty happy with it and stand by every word!)

I haven't been drunk in a while. I haven't really felt the need. I like not waking up hungover and I kind of want to be healthier. I've had days where I've really thought 'holy bacon I could go a Bundy!' but then I realise that I'd rather just sleep. I think it's been well over a month since I've had anything to drink at all.

I haven't been fired up over something worth blogging about. I get angry and talk about it, therefore not feeling angry anymore, or I just realise that it's not worth getting angry about and continue on living my life.

All this got me thinking...... am I like.....mentally stable right now?

And if so, WHO THE HELL AM I EVEN?!?

I have this feeling inside me, where I'm not really feeling any angst about anything in particular. I think it's called contentment. I've NEVER been content before. EVER. As in my whole (almost) 31 years, I have never just sat back and gone 'yep, everything is pretty orright actually'.  I've always been fighting with someone, having relationship issues, having baby issues, having extreme mental health issues, helping others deal with their extreme mental health issues.....

Right now I'm not doing any of that. I'm just.... happy. I'm a bit scared kids. Seriously, I think I need an adult.

I see a psychologist regularly who's given me tools that actually really help. I have my child in a routine and he's (mostly) happy and sleeping through the night, which means I (mostly) sleep through the night. I did a parenting course, which I'm pretty sure repaired our attachment issues and I'm even thinking that maybe a 2nd or 3rd or 10th baby is a possibility in the future. I have a list on the fridge of what we will be eating daily and the exercise classes I'm going to take. I'm joining a freaking gym tomorrow and have actually scheduled that into my day kids. I have a cleaning schedule so the house is pretty clean most of the time. At least once a week every room in the house gets a really good solid clean. You never really know how dirty your house is until you have a crawling baby in your house.

For realsie. I'm totally winning at life right now.

I write a shopping list according to what we will be eating and I don't go up and down the aisles and buy unnecessary shit anymore. I made my husband AND my child breakfast the last few mornings and we sat down and ate together before he went to work. I even said aloud, 'you know, I wouldn't mind being a stay at home mum. I think I'd be good at it.'

Holy shit.

I just realised who I am.

I'm a fucking Stepford wife.

Fuck.

Or old.

Of course. Never mind everyone. I'm just old.

Crisis averted.

Cheers,

Qld Nurse. 

Parents everywhere, I'm sorry I was a bitch.

Dear parents everywhere,

I'm sorry I judged you. I'm sorry as a non-parent I thought I knew more about parenting your child than you did. I'm sorry I glared at you disapprovingly and bitched behind your back, when I should have been offering you a foot rub and carrying your groceries for you.

As a fairly new parent myself, I've had some time to reevaluate my stance on a lot of things I was pretty sure I was an expert on. These things I will never, EVER judge another parent for doing, EVER AGAIN.

Their screaming child

In a plane, in the supermarket, in the restaurant, fuck any public place in the world. I will now, simply give them a knowing 'I've been there' smile and offer to pay for the bottle of vodka I recommend they buy. When we bought my bub home, he screamed. All. The. Time. I was basically a hermit for the first 3 months we had him home due to the fear of death glares I would receive when we went anywhere where the noise level was less than 3,000 decibels. Now, I don't give a fuck. He's a baby and he'll scream if he wants to. Don't get me wrong, I try and stop the screeching but let me give the non-parents a heads up. The sound of a baby crying to YOU is annoying. Possibly mildly headache inducing. I know, I've been you. But to the parent, it is SOUL DESTROYING. Especially if they have tried everything they have in their parent repertoire and it's not working. So take whatever feelings you have, multiply them by 10, and shove that look fair up your arse. I take back every time I did it, because trust me, karma was in fact a bitch.

Feeding your child shit food

My bub is below the 3rd percentile in weight. He was born this way as he was growth restricted in-utero and has followed the line so far. He's healthy, but the fact that he is little plays on my mind constantly. His weight is in the forefront of my brain the majority of the time. He has started solids, and it's a mission trying to get the food down him. Before this, and still now, trying to get him to take a bottle was/is a mission where basically an hour or two was spent being covered in milk/formula and ended in us both in tears. The boob was even worse. It got to the stage where I would have gladly fed him strawberry milk if it meant that he drank it and put on weight like he was supposed to. It's a fight. Every. Single. Fucking. Time. And the constant worry about whether he's getting enough nutrition is quite literally making my hair fall out. So if feeding your child Maccas once a week means your resting heart rate is actually within normal range for once, you go on with your bad self mumma. No judgement here. Well, no judgement anymore.

Not looking like a supermodel or 'letting yourself go' as it's so fondly referred to

My elbow at the present moment is so dry it hurts. Mostly due to the fact that moisturising is number 723 on my list of priorities right now. Make up? You're lucky if I brush my hair before leaving the house most of the time. In fact I only washed it today because I couldn't remember the last time I had.  I know, I know, how does my husband control himself right? I used to think 'gosh when I have kids I'll make sure I still look presentable, how embarrassing for that women with eyebrows like caterpillars'. As a mum now, showering is a luxury & not necessarily a priority. I'm so tired that my eyes are blurry 75% of the time, so sometimes I don't notice that bit of throw up on my shoulder until I'm out in the blaring, non-forgiving light of day. And you know what? It took me 25 minutes to get out of the house in the first place, so you can bet your left nut I'm not going home now to change for a little bit of spit up. Deal with it. If you don't like what you see, don't look. I'm not here for your visual pleasure cockhead. And by cockhead I am of course referring to my pre-child self.

Being late & only being available at certain times

Time has only just recently started to exist for me again, and even then it's only in the form of baby asleep & baby awake times which generally fall in 45 minute blocks. I can start preparing to go out an hour and a half before I'm supposed to be there but you can guarantee that 15 minutes before I'm due to walk out the door, a pooslosion or a vomit the size of a grown drunk man will occur and I will still be 15 minutes late. Pre-child, waiting for a post-child friend would piss me off. Now, I not only understand but expect it. Kids don't care about time. They're little arseholes. And you know what? It has taken weeks, WEEKS of non cry it out sleep training to get my child to sleep longer than 30 minutes at a time. So many tears. So little sleep. So if I have to have lunch with you at 1030am because bub's biggest nap is somewhere around 1130-130 and he won't sleep when I'm out and as a result of being tired becomes the devil with roid rage and makes me want to stab myself in the eye, well guess what? You're having lunch with me at 1030am or not at all. Thems the breaks my friend.

Anything that happens when a mother has post natal depression

The story of the mother who left her baby in a drain? Well I felt complete heartbreak for her because it was at a time when I was also considering the various ways I could escape motherhood. Pre-child, I had nothing but pure hatred and contempt for any mother that could do anything but love their child silly. Now, as someone with PND, my child is extremely lucky that we both had a great support system that stopped me from leaving him on someone's doorstep. Literally. I was also lucky to have people that could recognise that my behaviour was not me, and did not judge me for it, but rather showed concern & compassion. Because judgement would not have helped the situation in any way, shape or form. It would have made it worse. Much, much worse. Because I can guarantee that whatever judgements you were passing about me, I was passing them on myself but twenty times worse. When you have a child that literally screams for hours on end, every single fucking day, the future looks bleak my friends. You add in the hormones of breastfeeding, a traumatic birth, the pressure of society, the mummy guilt and health problems, you've got a cocktail that I like to call 'shit just got real and it stinks'. With this point especially, I cannot apologise profusely enough. My pre-kid self was a judgemental, know-it-all cunt and I take back every Judgey McJudgepants comment I ever made about a mum with PND.

That age old saying of 'don't judge someone until you've walked in their shoes' is actually pretty accurate when it comes to parenting. I had no idea what being a parent was like, and all my friends and family that just gave me that 'you don't know what the fuck you're on about' smile whenever I started a sentence with "when I have kids......", well guys, I get it. I get it now. And I'm sorry I was a bitch.

Cheers,

Qld Nurse.