This photo was taken 100 years ago.
I remember that jumper.
I wore it home from the hospital and I loved its colour. It ended up smelling like milk, stained and stretched from kids pulling at it. I look exhausted because I was. The photo is slightly blurred. Probably because my husband was also completely drained and shattered from trying to keep us all ‘together’ and carry on working a demanding job.
My son looks shocked because his little world had just changed. Take a look at my sweet little boy having to share one of my knees with the ‘intruder’. This was right about the time that he decided if she wasn’t going to sleep, then he wouldn’t either. She just cried…well, screamed, actually. A lot. As is her nature even today. ‘When she is good she is very, very good, but when she is bad, she is horrid.’ I thought I would have the second baby thing down pat, but WOW was I wrong.
But…
We clawed our way through.
We held on tight to each other.
We are still presented daily with frustrating challenges, tantrums and confusion.
But now we sleep. (And if they wake up ridiculously early on the weekend, they can now go to the toilet, get a drink, and find the iPad.) Now, my son can help turn the bathroom tap on for his sister. They can tell me if their throat is sore. Those horrific nappies are long gone. They constantly gang up on me about their NEED for a dog, but they also draw pictures of me surrounded with love hearts.
My son is at school now and the diva has a couple of days at Kinder. Whilst my heart is forever tied, my hands are freed a little more. I can actually shampoo and condition my hair in a long, hot shower. Though the washing is still piled behind doors, I will actually get to it…at some stage. I have lost most of the baby weight (but never that bloody sag) and I occasionally get out with my friends who are simply the best medicine.
And I realise that I have become that mother who has forgotten.
Because all those bloody annoying ‘experts’ who tell you that it will pass in a blink of an eye, were actually right.
I am no longer existing in a fog of exhaustion, clutching wet wipes and a copy of ‘Save Our Sleep‘. You see, whilst I see how tired I was here in this photo, it also helped me to remember. I had forgotten how my daughter would blow raspberries and crack herself up with infectious squeals of delight. I had forgotten that little boy in leggings with the chubby cheeks, red hair and giant smile who loved ducks and Fireman Sam.
And I am grateful.
(for sleep, wine and ABC Kids…..)
No…really.
All roads have led me here.
This is right where I am meant to be.
