22 May 2013

Feelings of inadequacy; part II

Feelings of inadequacy have followed me around like a bad smell since I was little. For some reason I have always felt inadequate, never really having confidence in myself or my skills. I don't know where this stems from. Whether it is born from circumstance or events I don't - or can't - recall, or whether this is inbuilt in me. Like a strand of my DNA. Was I born to second guess myself..?

I had two great friends while in high school, and as part of an awesome threesome I always felt like the outsider. They never gave me reason to think this but I was convinced that they liked me the least and that they would much rather hang out with each other, without me there. This is just one example of my inferiority complex.

I convince myself, time and time again, that people don't like me. As much as I know most of this is paranoia, I really do feel that most of them don't. I seem to struggle to make long-lasting connections with people and I don't know why, but a lot of the people I meet just don't seem to have the time or space for a little bit of 'Stephanie' in their lives.

As you can imagine, this makes me pretty sad if I dwell on the matter. Thankfully I have someone in my life now who does like me and who only really has time and space in his life for me. Hurrah. But I say this with a sense of sadness too because I know my son can't be my 'best friend' forever. An ex boyfriend of mine once said to me, 

"Your only friends are me and your mum."

He was a cock. But is words stayed with me and now his words are morphing with the words running through my mind...

"Your only friends are your husband and your son."


That statement fills me with a melancholy sense of completion. How lucky I am to call these boys my best friends but how lonely it is to not have any other friends to call upon. Friends seem to slip through my fingers like grains of sand, despite my best efforts, and the ones I am lucky enough to call forever-friends are not on hand, living their own busy lives in other countries.

But the point of this piteous post is that, as a mother, it is more important now (more than ever) to be making firm friends. To be joining in on the community that is motherhood and finding some friends for my boy. I can live with my sadness of not having very many friends, but to tie my son to the same fate without helping him along the way is a thought that doesn't sit comfortably at all. Every parent wants for their child, what they did not have for themselves. And I'd like my boy to have some solid friends, from an early age, for life. He deserves it.

And as such I'm putting myself out there. I'm forcing myself to get involved with local groups, as uncomfortable as that feels. There are a few groups around here that I've managed become part of virtually, now I'm going to try and get stuck in physically. I only hope that once they meet 'us', they'll be happy to have us again. And again. And again. 


8 May 2013

{Self inflicted} pressures of being a mama..

I'm a terrible house wife. Fact.

Every day my mind heaves with the torment of self-inflicted* pressure. Pressure to do more chores; pressure to be a better mama; pressure to look better; pressure to be a better person. Suffice it to say, I don't get a whole lot of this stuff done. I barely scrape through the day, some days, and that's ok.... to an extent.

When Chuck naps, I walk from room to room assessing the amount of chores to do in each room and set about trying to tackle the mountainous amount of work required to get our house 'in order'. I fail each and every day. The little things take SO. LONG. I swear I spend 95% of my available time wiping food from the floor, folding clothes and making [another] coffee. And then he's awake again, and we go back to the beginning of the list. Again.

I'm not complaining. Far from it. I just wish I was better, more efficient. Useful in fact.

I dont want to be one of those clean-freak moms [fat chance of that ever happening really] but I dont want my boy growing up in chaos either. I want us all to be able to enjoy our limited space better, and lord knows living a clutter-free life can be cathartic. I still have aspirations of a minimalist lifestyle - one day. Or at least, one day I'll have enough cupboard space to make it look like we live a life of minimalism.

I'd like to make some headway though. I just don't know where to start. Or really how to get there.

Being a mama is supposed to make you organised so how come I still cant figure out enough time in my day to wash my hair?


*It is self-inflicted but I really should do better, right? I mean, I just should iron when I'm exhausted, right? That's what other mothers do, right?

6 May 2013

A moment alone

A moment alone to sit on back back-doorstep, sip a decaf coffee and munch my breakfast while soaking up the first offering of UV this country has had to offer this year is a rarity these days. As a mother, moments alone don't really exist. Unless you class sleeping as moments alone, and lord knows there isn't a lot of that going on these days either.

So to be sat here, alone - soaking in my fair share of vitamin D - is a pure and fleeting treat. You learn to accept these small moments as precious when you have children. They're like a mega-quick-power-up and they leave you pumped and ready. Ready for when that adventurous,curious and energetic baby wakes from his nap. They leave you ready and able to give and receive the love and fun that bursts from every seam of your child.

These moments don't last long. But when I'm lucky enough get one, I sit and let my brain stop. Stop for a moment to rest and reflect. Reflect upon how fabulously lucky I am to be in this position. To have this sweet and amazing boy. To be his mummy. It lets you put those tired, grumpy and irritable moments, that can sometimes make being a mamma so difficult, to bed. To remember how utterly blessed I am to be the person who gets to raise this boy. To watch him grow and smile each day.

When you're a mama, moments alone are rarely moments alone because the first thing that springs to mind is that little person who made you crave this moment alone in the first place. This is the beauty of being a mama; this ain't no part-time gig. And I love it.

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