Today was productive. I managed to do a big grocery shop run while Eva behaved. Cleaned out my fridge. Re organised my pantry. Did a few loads of washing. Cooked two separate dinners for the family. Now I’m depleted.

I’m currently stealing time in my room writing, while Nelson watches over the girls for 30 minutes before it’s bath and bed time.

It’s that magical time between dinner and bed time when most tasks are done for the night, so you have a precious 30-60 minutes of unassigned time to use at your will.

I’ve chosen to write.

So back to it…I often wonder how do working mums do it all. The shopping still needs to get done. The cooking too. Cleaning is an endless task. No matter how much you do, there is always so, soooo much more to do. And I’m one of the lucky ones who has a pretty hands on husband who helps me more than I know other husbands do. Yet, I’m always chasing my tail.

Did I mention I’m still technically on maternity leave.

Well actually, I’m jobless lol. Maternity leave was for 12 months, 14 months ago, but I decided not to return to that previous role, so for now, my job is homemaking.
(life update: since this entry was written, I am now back to being a part time working mum from home).

I assume that once you’re a working mum, you have to get a little more savvy with how you execute and disperse the tasks. Either husband does some grocery shopping, or online grocery shopping becomes a close friend. Meal prepping I imagine would come into play. Cleaning would consist of the bare minimum to maintain a tidy exposure, until the weekend rolls around and you can get deeper into it. I mean, when do we ever get to stop?

Never is the answer. This is another side of parenting no one talks about. The juggle. The damn juggle is real. Especially for the working mums. As helpful as my husband is, you’re hard pressed to find a dad who does the lions share of the parenting, housework and life admin. With most families I know, this lands in the hands of the mum/wife. Even if she’s also working.

Having a family of your own, someone to be madly in love with, have children, own home etc, it’s the dream, right? But it’s bloody exhausting. I used to feel personally attacked when people would say they’re not sure if they wanted kids. The deeper I get into life with children, I understand more that sentiment.

Don’t get me wrong, that’s not to say I didn’t want this, or love my children more than anything I’ve ever loved. And if I were to do it again, I absolutely wouldn’t change a thing. But yes, I understand when people say that life isn’t for them. Life is exhausting. It’s exhausting single. It’s exhausting in a relationship, and then to throw children into the mix, the exhaustion hits peaks you never knew existed. It truly is not for the faint of heart. You need to be prepared to die completely to self. Prepared to live a life that no longer is about you, or at the very least, not about you first. You need to be prepared to put your own wants and needs on hold.

That doesn’t come easy, not even to parents. And most parents are parents because they chose to be. And in choosing so, you already somewhat understand the concept of needing to be selfless above all else, otherwise it wouldn’t be a path you’d even contemplate going down.

And even when I ask the question ‘why don’t we talk about these parts of parenting’, I find myself already answering the question. No one thinks parenting is a walk in the park. That’s a given. We do it so not to scare off would be parents. We do it because despite how hard it is, nothing is more rewarding and joy inciting than your child wrapping their tiny, fragile arms around you and telling you they love you. Nothing on earth comes close to the utter purity of that love. That alone overshadows the shit parts of this wild ride we call parenthood.

In the depths of the trenches, when your child isn’t sleeping, you’re more exhausted than you’ve ever been and can’t see rest anywhere on the horizon, when your body feels so achingly battered, this is what I cling to. Their love. Their attention. Their need and want for me. Because it’s all fleeting. The good times and the bad. They’re all seasons. And seasons never last before the next takes over. They won’t be my babies forever. They won’t be keeping me up all night forever. This too shall pass. And this gets me through.

That’s the pep talk I gave myself this morning to stop myself from losing my shit (for lack of a better term) at Ariya today at kinder drop off.

My sweet, beautiful little 4 year old who is shy upfront and takes time adjusting to new surroundings, wouldn’t let me leave her at kinder today, despite trying to for 20 minutes. My initial response was to get mad at her for being so annoying. Annoying! How do we forget they’re still babies!! Who need us. I forget all the time. I expect her to be so bold and confident walking into a room of 25 other children, all new to her, all with their own established friendships. Forgetting that even the most grown of adults gets social anxiety when presented with the same setting. It’s safe to say I was quickly convicted for my default response today. My little baby won’t be a baby for long. She won’t need me forever. All this time is fleeting. So tomorrow, if she needs me that little bit longer, that’s where I will be.

Again, this entry went in a direction I didn’t intend, but insightful for me nevertheless. I guess if I get nothing from this exercise except a more refined, deeper and more intentional sense of self and parenting, than I’ll be out on top.

This is excerpt 3.