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6 Months as a mum of two

The winds of change are coming and they are coming fast. I find myself reflecting on these past six months, looking back, and clinging onto the things that I thought would never end.

I’m writing this for you, for me and for the next parent who needs to hear this. Hold on to the mundane, for these are the good old days. Don’t get me wrong, I have had some hard times in the past six months and I have wished a few days away. But now, I know, these days have been the best days.

Look how far we have come

For it was just a blink of an eye, but now look how far we have come. Just six months ago, I was questioning my decision to take Otis out of childcare. I was starring straight down the barrel of having a newborn and a 2 year old to juggle and it was intense.

By 8 weeks old Mr B was off working away for three weeks and we somehow muddled through bedtimes and witching hours and breastfeeding and toddler meltdowns.

At 12 weeks I wobbled, I wobbled hard. My exhaustion had reached new levels having been solo parenting the two boys for 3 weeks out of the last 4. I cried, I had panic attacks, I felt knots tear through my tummy. I was cracking.

As we worked our way through 16 weeks and the anxiety, we had some crap days, dark days, I shouted, I cried I sat on the kitchen floor and asked Otis to help me. And just like the day that he was born he helped me, he told me he would and he did. For he might be a crazy two year old that can push all my buttons, but he is so kind. He has so much empathy, and he just wanted me to be ok.

We found our new normal

Fast forward to 20 weeks and I had found my groove. I had opened up about my anxiety. I had talked to everyone I could and we found our happy chaos. We were walking daily, I was taking it easier on myself and feeling so much better.

I couldn’t imagine it ever being any different. Our big daily walks, trips to the supermarket, Sitting on blankets in the garden, watching movies on rainy days. Our little team, nailing it (some of the time).

These days are numbered

But the days are numbered my dear boys, they are coming to an end and a new chapter is starting.

I used to feel so down trodden if I stayed in my pj’s all day with un-brushed teeth and my bed head bun. Honestly, I don’t know why, for those days are everything to me at the moment.

Stacking the double pushchair up with picnics and supplies so we can walk for hours in the woods, taking the long way to the park. We talk about nature, and look at the changing season, the flowers that are out the birds that we can hear. These are the days I never want to forget.

Last week I think I didn’t brush my teeth before midday at least 3 days in a row. And I don’t even care. We were just being, being together. Hanging out, watching tele when we wanted, pulling all the toys out, piles of washing everywhere.

One day it won’t be like this. Soon Otis will attend more childcare. We won’t have the luxury of those long walks, of days in pj’s drinking cold tea.

It’s becoming a memory, it’s becoming the thing we used to do, it’s becoming the good old days.


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