Are you having a Kid Life Crisis?

Anna Hughes - 2 Sep 16

It’s Monday morning and this happened:

“And THAT girls, is what we call ‘BEAT BOXING!’”.

The very moment these words leave my lips, I stop. My smile fades. I step slowly away from the plastic cash register with built in microphone. My two preschoolers stare at me, an expression of confusion and anticipation on their faces. Something hits me. Who IS this full grown woman with her Fisher Price products and her “beatboxing”? Where has the other person gone? The one who didn’t wear porridge splashed clothes. The one who didn’t do her make up whilst frazzled in the taxi on the way out, but in the comfort of her own home with a glass of wine? The one who spent her days having uninterrupted adult conversations about adult (ish) subjects?

Later that same morning, I am reluctantly (it’s still early) jumping on a trampoline with the two year old’s hands in mine. The four year old is happily making Octonaut noises nearby. My friend arrives, eyes squinting as though a bright torch is being shone directly into them (we are in a dimly lit, windowless trampolining gym). She practically feels her way towards us with a sort of happy yet pained expression on her more tanned than normal face. Her own two preschoolers in tow. She has this kind of wonky ‘broken but content’ look about her. And this is why:

Last week she kissed her husband and kids goodbye, skipped to the airport and boarded a flight with a group of her finest friends. After four days of wine, laughter, shots, snowboarding, more shots, she returns. It’s her first trip away without kids in four years.

And, it turns out, it’s the first time in four years she has got to BE the person she was before she had children. And to say this is therapeutic for her would be an understatement.

When we are away from our children, there is no planning an entire day around naps, no pasta prep, no daily complicated bag inventory, no wiping of any bums that don’t belong to us, no toddler refereeing, negotiating, sending to the step-ing, no extremely unreasonable behaviour to deal with, no being woken in the middle of the night and/or at crazy o’clock in the morning.

Our brains are full to the brim (to the BRIM!) with this stuff on a daily basis, leaving little to no room for much else. Leave the kids for a few days (not on their own, ideally) and, as my friend was delighted to discover, out pops the original ‘you’. The person that existed before babies entered the equation. The person who was hiding inside somewhere, trying to get a bloody word in edgeways for the last four years. But still in there.

And it’s that realisation that leads me to The Kid Life Crisis. The point at which one, not so much misses, more, fancies a drink with the person they were before having children. Just to check they are still in there.

My kids are everything to me and I can barely believe how lucky I am to have them. I love them so much it feels like I could pop (when not clawing out own hair during meltdowns, whinging, arguments, screaming, bumping, crying, carpet soiling etc). But occasionally it would be nice to have something (anything) else, completely unrelated to children, to occupy my brain.

Sometimes I wonder whether the ‘Mum’ part of my brain has gone all Pac Man and greedily eaten my ‘real me’ brain cells. This leaves me with some sort of a mega ‘Mum’ brain programmed only to think/discuss kids food, faeces, school places, snot, nappies, tantrums, time out, reward charts, sharing, playing nicely, Elsa, Simba, rub it better, pick it up, stop playing with your bottom, type subjects.

That and box sets.

Often when I talk, I actually bore my own self. It has gotten to the point where, when asked expectantly, ‘what are you up to this week?’ I simply respond with a strange grunt. I can’t be bothered to explain my ‘soft play, farm animal, peeling kids off floor’ filled week to people because, well, it’s not very interesting a tale. Not for them.

My aforementioned friend has already booked her next trip away, entirely with her other half’s blessing. He saw what a positive effect this break had on her. And this, I truly believe, is an essential action to take in order to get through the Kid Life Crisis. Booking some quality time with yourself, or even better, with mates who make you laugh.

Then the next time you start embarrassing yourself/the children/anyone who knows you with a Fisher Price till mic, you’ll be able to relax, safe in the knowledge that just because you’re behaving like a twat in front of the kids, it doesn’t mean you’re really a twat. (Can I get that quote framed please? It’s quite profound).

Anna Hughes

Bristol based writer and mother of 2 small people aged 2 and 4. Regular finder of banana in her hair and raisins in her shoes. Follow if you fancy an honest but (hopefully) smirk inducing account of real life mothering. No frump, no fluff, just the (occasionally harsh) truth. Tweet the Author: @bananainmyhair

View profile for posts, events and more info