Because what the internet needs is more wittering about rubbish parenting

Monday, 3 October 2011

A Bit of a Grumble

I've been finding life a bit difficult lately. Nothing too dramatic, just a bit of a slog. My girls light up my days, but they don't half make them long too. The Toddler is, well, she's two. Her selective toddler deafness, lack of appreciation of danger, greed for cheese, addiction to CBeebies, stubbornness and sense of mischief have been well documented, and all continue to contribute to me tearing my hair out on a daily basis (What's left of it, that is. I seem to be moulting, I had forgotten this happens post-pregnancy).

The Littl'un is more laid-back, but she still knows how to make her displeasure known if she is hungry, tired, wet, bored or just, you know, grumpy. And she's just learned to grab, which is cute and fun and all that, but I can't say I'm really impressed with it when the thing she is grabbing is the top of my boob. I think she in some way believes she is helping with the feeding process. She is not.

Which brings me to feeding. I am still entirely happy that I'm breastfeeding, really. But it means I have ALWAYS got to be planning things around the next feed, and it's all my responsibility. It's my own fault for being too lazy to faff about with expressing, I know, but sometimes it all just feels very BIG, if that makes sense to anyone but me.

And I'm TIRED. I seem to stay up later than is sensible, faffing around on the computer and trying to tackle some of the never-ending mountain of STUFF that needs doing around here, and then The Littl'un decides that 4am would be a good time for a feed. I disagree, but unfortunately, she wins.

I know I don't really have it that hard. There are countless women out there who don't have healthy and mostly happy children, a wonderful husband who lets them sleep in and knows how to turn the hoover on, brilliant parents who will spend hours entertaining a toddler with the attention span of a gnat, or friends who are always there for a cup of tea and a chat. So then I feel guilty for finding it hard and having a little moan.

Argh. Guess I should just stop the moaning and get on with it. For what it's worth, this was going to be an even bigger and moanier grumble (and wouldn't that have been a joy to read?), but I've been to yoga tonight, got me chakras all in line or whatever (I never listen when she's talking all the airy-fairy gumph), so I'm actually feeling much happier. Until tomorrow probably, when I start to feel the effects of too much Downward Dog.

1 comment:

  1. this sounds all too familiar! I don't see why we can't have a moan from time to time, even though like you say we are very lucky!
    I know exactly what you mean when you say it feels very "BIG", the responsibility always lies with us Mums to provide everyone's meals, and as your family grows it gets harder. But then it starts to get easier when everyone eats the same things and at the same time,so you can look forward to that.
    I do still get overwhelmed by the responsibility sometimes, this probably never goes away...