I realised something about myself this week. I was bored. It was Thursday. Sproglet had skipped off to school, I'd done my chores and watched all my Sky+ programmes (is it me or is there feck all worth watching on TV at the mo?? I feel my life could soon become a box set - with Mad Men at the top. A must watch apparently). This was before I went to meet Sproglet's teacher and before I had just got home from that and finally got a park miles from our house - and then got a call from school that I had to return immediately as Sproglet had had a violent attack of the squits. It was also before I had to take the poor wee man for 2 big needle jabs for MMR2 and a booster. He howled. I felt like the devil for lying to him that we were going to the docs for the Dr to check on the baby. Yes, before all those joyous moments of my day - I was lying on the sofa - mind numbingly bored.
I don't do 'relaxing' very well unless I'm on a beach or in a movie theatre. Takes a helluva lot to quieten my mind. Anyway - the thought occurred to me that in 2 weeks I will finish my job and have 2 more weeks, then baby will be here. I've been so excited about NOT being pregnant any more I have kind of forgotten that in not being preggers I will also then have a baby to deal with. I've made a list of stuff I need and am starting to think about it - a bit. I'm also starting to remember how lonely I was when Sproglet was small. How mind numbing I found the happy clappy groups, how inferior I felt to other Mothers, how desperate I felt when the only person I talked to in a day was the woman at the Sainsburies check out counter. I can't go through that again.
I like working. No, strike that. I love working. When it is good that is. Like yesterday - I was in a small office with 3 people I admire and like and respect - and it was nothing short of fun. I get a lot out of teamwork and challenges and people and projects and good scripts - and even bad ones. I don't want to stay at home with a baby all day, bouncing off the walls and trying to entertain 2 kids. My brain shuts down. I'm not judging those who do - my god, it is the hardest job of all. But even if my Husband won the lottery tomorrow - I think I'd still work. It feeds me mentally.
Which begs the question - why have kids? I don't know. I love my son above all. I really enjoy time with him. Just not 24/7. The thing that I have struggled with most is retaining my sense of self and not just being a Mother.
When I'm around some other Mums I feel like a different breed: I don't want to give birth, I don't want to breast feed - for the sake of everyone and my breasts eclipsing the sun - I don't want to talk about kids all day. I've banged on about this enough. But lying on my couch on Thurs, bored, I realised - it is time to stop beating myself up - feeling like a poor second best Mum to all those stay at home, organic baking, breast feeding, craft worshipping mega Mums. I am me. I know what I want and I'm gonna make it happen next year.
I'm a happier person for it and that makes a happier and better Mother. I don't care what anyone else thinks. Well I do. But I'm going to try not to. Roll on baby and hopefully another job. It'll be tough - but at least I'll never be bored.