snapshot in time

via Pinterest

I'm outta steam today. Day 1 of a 3-day sales conference at the day job. And as I otherwise work part time it makes it all the more challenging to stay organised on the home front because the conference is for 3 FULL days.  


Generally, after school on Monday afternoons we have a scheduled play-date.  Another mum from school and I alternate taking turns looking after the boys, both of who are an only child in the family. It gives them some time to pretend for an afternoon that they have a sibling and for us, some time out (on alternate Monday's of course). 


So screaming round to their house I went straight after the 2-hours-later-than-scheduled-finish-time at work.  Then straight home to find that the husband had arrived home from work before me (that's a first) and already had dinner sorted (I didn't even care that it was just a frozen pizza in the convection oven). Phew.


After dinner, it's a quick shower, the usual reading of the assigned readers for that evening, brushing of the teeth, some monkey shenanigans, then 1/2 hour of "I don't wanna go to bed" before finally convincing him to go to bed.


Tonight when I took my boy-child to bed I offered to read him a bedtime story. As we flicked through the vast selection of accumulated books in his bookcase, we came across his Wiggles photo album filled with photos of him when he was an ankle biter.  He chose this over a storybook.  And I'm so glad that he did.


As we flipped through the pages filled with colourful memories, my heart filled with nostalgia. This little face that I know but somehow looked like a very distant memory.  When was he ever that little? Look at those pudgy cheeks! I want another baby. No I don't. Eew, nappies. Awh, warm unconditional cuddles.  I remember that cute outfit. I wish it still fit him.


All kinds of emotions came flooding in. I think he felt it too.  He asked me where the photo of mum looking angry was. Just when I was about to say "what are you talking about, there's no such photo" he found the photo.  He was right.  I looked angry in this one photo.  Why was I angry?  Wait. I'm still angry. Some of the time I don't realise that I'm angry. But I am.  My husband has recently been telling me that I need to loosen up. Relax. Not take things so seriously.


I get upset when he tells me that.  Why?  Because I don't know how to "relax".  Because I wish I were carefree, loose and fun. Those words seem to have disappeared from my vocabulary. Sometimes I am more serious-mummy, preoccupied-mummy, cleaner-mummy, got-63-things-on-my-to-do-list-mummy and that leaves little time for fun and carefree mummy.


Being the pedantic person that I am (blame that one on the astrological sign of Virgo), I find it hard to just let things go which in turn means that I'm really hard on myself when I don't completely have things under control. And let's be real. Unless you have a nanny, cleaner and a clone, how can things ever be picture-perfect in all aspects of life?  It's all good to give others advice, but I just find it hard to accept or take my own.


As almost six years have gone by since I became a mum, I'm still struggling to come to terms with losing control of what seems like my entire life.  Trying to have a career, be a mum, an entertainer, cleaner, cook, a loving wife, friend, daughter and a home-maker whilst still trying to be me somewhere in between.  It's a lot of shoes to fill and I'm not sure I can nor should I want to fill all of them perfectly. 


Should I feel bad that I can't achieve everything I want? Definitely not. But do I? Absolutely.


Maybe one day I will read this and finally take my own advice.  But for now, I will continue wishing that time would just stand still long enough for me to catch up.