Freebird

This is a bit of a weird one. Stay with me.

It’s become evident that I am officially a self proclaimed ‘Baby induced social recluse’ (I need to copyright that)

Yesterday I made plans to see a friend at the end of this week and it made me realise that in this entire month, in this entire year, I’ve seen two friends. Obviously I’ve seen people on the school run, I’ve spoken to my friends most days, and seen people in the village, but I mean go-out-of-the-way-to-see-each-other friends. Partly because we’ve been a house of sickness the last week but also that’s life post baby, your life, their life, friend’s lives gets in the way, but if there was ever an invitation to give someone an easy way out of a friendship, a baby is just that – Trim the fat, no one needs that many ‘friends’.

I don’t need the violins out, it was just an observation. Since we moved here though (which seems to some as though its Middle Earth… considering its only 10 minutes further than our old house in Caversham) but the visits have decreased drastically – Although that was part of the attraction being out here. Already social recluses!

Babies/children seem to be have such an active social life these days, two parties a day some weekends. I can barely handle an adult one every 6 months considering my middle name used to be Pardy and if I wasn’t in the Turtle every night of the week then there was probably something seriously wrong – Like when I got kidney stones and retired from Mix cocktail bar. (RIP)… don’t get me wrong I still know how to minesweep in Revs. (this definitely happened a few months ago… N.B. – Do not minesweep in Revs)

I think we’re all just taught that when we have kids we must change and become ‘parents’. That involves changing your social circle, how you dress, behave and talk. I mean I have changed drastically and when I think back to my old self and my old thoughts I can barely recognise her. She is a stranger to me. But I changed in a way that I can keep another human alive, when before I could barely keep myself alive. However I look at so many parents and they literally have lost all sense of themselves as ‘Sophie’ or ‘wife’ and are now just ‘Mummy’ and while that is one of the greatest titles to be given, it shouldn’t define you, it should empower you… You pushed an 8lber out of the place nothing that big should be vacated! –  bigupyaself!

It’s so easy to lose sight of yourself at the beginning, who you were before or even the prospect that one day you might finally not be hormonally insane. That’s why having real friends that either have come out the other side in one piece to advise you that it doesn’t last forever, friends that are going through it with you “walking through the valley of the shadow of death” (so to speak) hand in hand or friends that can recall old nights out and remind you that you were that ‘free’ and while you have added responsibilities and accountability now you really are that person and will be that person again.

I mean, I’m not shy about saying that I flip the bird behind Beaux’s back on a regular occasion, but when I once mentioned to my nct group that at 4 months old she could be an arsehole and sometimes on what seemed to be on purpose, they looked at me like maybe didn’t deserve to have her. When they’d already made me feel like I was on TeenMumUK (at 26) and would forget to cc me into the emails of groups they were all going to. So for me, real friends that knew you before your nipples went black and probably saw them in their heyday are like gold when you’re feeling incredibly mentally and physically deflated.

Childhood is so very brief and the guilt or sadness you feel for who you once were or what you could be doing is so fleeting when you step back in the room and see all that you have in front you. Especially when I look around me now and all my friends are moving forward too, no one is doing what we used to, minus some crackheads, but no one has stayed the same. And while I think about the ones who are close to me all the time, I know that we are all forever moving forward, separately but together and when we do see each other we realise that we are already who we wanted to be and know that distance and time are just numbers. They don’t define us… Apart from those of us that turn 30 this year… that number is reeeeeal!

I guess this is a shout out to all the people I know were there for me, are there for me now and will always be… Soon you’ll be the suckers with life appendages, social life sponges and sleep teases while we are out of the woods and ‘free’ again. See you all on the other side, my loves.

“One day, all of us will get separated from each other; we will miss our conversations of everything and nothing; the dreams that we had. Days will pass by, months, years, until this contact becomes rare… One day our children will see our pictures and ask “Who are these people?” And we will smile with invisible tears because a heart is touched with a strong word and you will say: “It was them that I had the best days of my life with.”

Hx

Thanksgiving

While its difficult for me to get on board with what it stands for, no offence but genocide just isn’t my bag, I like the idea of taking some time to think and voice what you’re thankful for. Something we should all practice more often.

As the saying goes “this too shall pass” and while I’m continuing to battle this anxiety daily, last week I felt so desperately far from those words it seemed I’d lost sight of the forest for the trees. Deep down I know it’ll pass each time but in those moments it seems improbable.

I’m thankful for my little family, the people that open my eyes each time, either by merely existing or for giving me something else to think about. But primarily to Dan for both and for having the patience to let it pass.

Also to my two little loves who help me see the greatness in every waking minute, day and night!

So today I’m very, very thankful

Hx

Now who’s the exhausted a**ehole?!

Imagine, I’m there drinking another gallon of coffee at 6pm last night in a bid to feel and look less like a dug-up-corpse for parents evening. It had only been microwaved once so I felt like I was transported to Starbucks, Riverside MotherF*cker.

Fast forward to 10pm, I’m ready for our rock-star-bed-time and now Casey is fully unconscious. Meanwhile I’m so caffeinated I can’t feel my face and that mixed with this anxiety bastard that wont let me sleep as of late, plus the anticipation of one of my closest friends about to give birth any moment, I lay there checking my phone every 5 seconds making sure it was still working.

Obviously the second I fell asleep he woke up in a ravenous frenzy demanding alllll the ounces and by the end of the animalistic feed we were both ready for the long nap. He slept for another 6 hours which is up there in epic proportions to normal.

Only to be woken to messages of an out-of-the-blue engagement – the second of the week (feeling the love guys) and the arrival of Baby! I mean at what point could I sleep after that! ❤️💙

 

So its made me realise, if I wasn’t up with Casey, I’d be up for another reason and sometimes, it’s just easier to blame someone else.

 

In other news, while taking out the rubbish this morning, I noticed this little sock situation…

IMG_E1344

My sock voluntarily did the roll thing – Circa 1994, Year 2 – where the ‘tighter the roll, the closer to God’ or some shit. And while my love for a sock/sandal combo knows no bounds at the moment, this takes me back to when your social status was based entirely on the roll quality.

How I long to go back to a simpler time.

Hx

Absolute write off.

Sorry I’m busy not being busy.

When I thought about bringing Casey home from hospital, I thought about the freedom and time I’d have to spend with him. I’d cut down Beaux’s nursery days by half to spend more time with her too and make up for the nine months I worked solidly while pregnant and spending the time we had together trying to recover from my energy sapping work days while carrying a human parasite. It can’t have been easy and I was ready to make it up to her.

Dan went back to work and I actually felt like I’d been handed a sweet deal. Second time round is a breeze in comparison to the first. You’ve got your shit relatively together, you feel like a baby whisperer (even though Casey spoke any language other than the one we’d learnt with Beaux) the house wasn’t a complete baby death trap and we were a little less thrown in the deep end, with cement blocks on our feet, like you are with your first.

Just shy of 6 weeks in and I was venturing out on my own (just with Casey – fxxk risking a 2-child-meltdown in public when you’ve only just gotten over the uncontrollable, unpredicatable, hormonal outbursts yourself)

I’d offered my services to a close friend to make her a flower crown and some other cute baby shower bits and at that point of juggling two kids and life I thought I was a mixture of Mary Poppins and Kirsty Allsopp so naturally, I headed to Hobby Craft to grab myself a glue gun and fuck shit up.

As we got closer to home I stopped to turn onto our road from the main road (aptly names ’13 bends of death’) a car went from roughly national speed limit, with about 3 foot of breaking into the back of us.

Thankfully it was a smart car (covered in astroturf which was a lol explaining to insurance companies and solicitors) so he managed to completely miss the crash bar and go right under the car, rather than completely throw us into oncoming traffic the other side of the road. Also due to the make of the car and the engine being in the boot he kept his legs which was another win.

And thanks to my ‘fxxk-taking-two-kids-out-solo-just-yet’ attitude, Beaux was at nursery and didn’t take the brunt of the impact emotionally or physically.

Casey was so preserved by the carseat he wouldn’t have felt much other than shock, (although the car had been so shunted I couldn’t open his door) but paramedics assessed him at the scene and said it would be best to go home and monitor him in his usual environment.

The adrenaline f*cked my shit up and while I showed no signs of anything at the time, I proceeded to vomit every day for two weeks and by the end of the first week I’d lost sensation in my arm and hands. CT and x-ray were clear and it was diagnosed as muscle spasms in my neck pinching my nerves causing loss of feeling – just what you need while changing 928391274012984 new born nappies a day. Also poppers – fuck you.

Fast forward to 2.5 months later, I’ve had to have physio 2/3 times a week, hours upon hours away from my children after having this dreamy plan of being with them like I was supposed to and now being crippled with anxiety.

Anxiety that I could’ve done more, anxiety driving, anxiety that I had to stop BFing, anxiety to take the medication I was prescribed, anxiety eating, anxiety thinking about having to go out, anxiety sleeping, anxiety of having to get help which would lead to more time away from my children. It’s ruined birthdays, nights out, missed weddings, missed appointments, missed out. There’s only so many excuses you can make up before you start looking like a dickhead.

The car was replaced and no one was hurt badly but all this time I’ve missed can’t and while my kids drive me insane I’d give anything to not have had this start to our journey together.

Although its catapulted me entirely away from any form of baby blues, after much anxiety, cold calling the surgery and cancelling appointment after appointment, I got diagnosed with ‘postpartum maternal separation anxiety’ and it is an absolute b*tch! I’m hopeful that I’ll see the sunshine soon, but currently my days are as grey as they are long.

Hoping to get my shit together soon.

Hx