Monday, December 21, 2009

Time to change.


The last blog post has been boring me for too long. Time to relegate it to the archives. I still have the stroller, and occasionally babyG requests "the blue stroller" for a run, so I oblige.

I have been living a very low-key lifestyle for the last couple of months. All the chilluns are home, so that's nice. The most recent (L) achilles tear is very slowly recovering - this is also good. No. 1 has worked up to swimming 2k per session - a positive thing for her in the light of ongoing stretching and strengthening issues with her running.

Part of the reason behind the "low-key" stuff mentioned above, is that I have really struggled to find my happy place in the last few months, perhaps longer, really. I have been frustrated by the roles I find myself in, and disappointed that this is how my life and partnerships have turned out. Now, a big part of my discontent is that common mummy thing, of missing what I consider the "luxury", of going out to work. Planning my day, and dealing with any unexpected developments with an adult perspective, doing different things, working independently - are all things I miss keenly when I'm at home with small children. Of course, the stay-at-home lobby group would howl in protest, that I'm fortunate to be at home during baby's early years, etc., and I know that - I'm here by choice, at least in part. In my own perfect world, though, I'd still like to be able to go places and do meaningful things, by myself sometimes.

And this is where the disappointment comes in. I feel cheated that neither of my partners in life so far, have been able to co-parent with me in a way that allows me to explore my options. I've had to be mum and dad, for almost half my life, now. When I was able to work, for a few years between No. 1 and No. 2, it was to come home to an unkempt house with no food in store, until I took care of those chores, too, managed the bills, and nurtured the kids. It's a lot of responsibility, in your early 20s, to be a parent. I don't dispute that fact. But parenting, and indeed partnering someone through life, needs to be built on, or it won't grow enough to sustain the family. You cannot carry a partner as well as your children, through so many years, without sometimes staggering under the weight. You can reason with yourself that your partner can only work with you to the limit of their ability, and just make yourself keep going anyway, but still, in the back of your mind, is that nagging idea that you want someone by your side who can shoulder the burdens equally. To be disappointed twice, and be left living the consequences, while former partners can so easily opt in and out of the responsibility of real "I'm-giving-this-100%" parenting, is what I have to accept, and learn to be happy in spite of.

So, my small positive epiphany last week on a rainy afternoon out in the car, was to make my little corner of the world as beautiful as I can, for me and the children, and let the enjoyment of that process sustain me. I find beauty in music, architecture, order and space, and a bit of green chaos in the garden (in the right proportion). TBC, huh?

2 comments:

BigLittleWolf said...

I read your words in the early hours of my morning, and I am still thinking of them.

I understand what you say here - with such lucidity. It seems self-evident, yet it isn't. Too often. Indeed, we cannot carry the burdens of working and children and the household and the relationship. Partnership implies shared responsibilities. And for some of us, we get anything but.

I admire you for creating your bit of order and beauty and architecture, with your bit of green.

Please keep writing. There is a woman on the other side of the world reading and listening. And many others.

Jac's Mum said...

Thanks BLW. You are my own touch of serendipity (...Get Off the Island, March 1). I came to be reading your blog, through reading aebrain.blogspot.com, another of WE magazine's 100 women bloggers to watch. So, I went blog-shopping, for more to read, and found you. And hopped on the computer at all hours to read big chunks of your past posts. I loved "Why I Wouldn't Shave My Head", as you can tell.

So, to have you leave a comment, when I think I am alone in blogspace, was very special. To then go over and read your extended post, and see you passionately and determinedly draw out the threads of what I was trying to say, was a great moment of having been "heard", and recognised, even though I'm here in my small corner of the world. So, thank you. Many times over.