I’m having a hiatus from real life
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In my current hiatus from real life I’d like to stop the bus, thank you very much, and get off here at maternity leave junction. It’s a blissfully happy time, rudely interrupted once or twice, or maybe a couple of hundred times. Not just by Justin Bieber’s lyrics, of which I know them all and, if I could locate my tummy muscles, which, they too are having a hiatus, I’d be able to show you the funky moves. The interruption is coming from my/our adorable new baby. Adorable, I use the term loosely, not so when feeding, changing, winding, and repeating.
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But she does have her lucid times. She’s a mop of dark hair swept over to the side and silver strands which give her a look of wisdom.
A wise soul, I’m sure of it. When passers-by admire her and tell me that theirs had a mop of hair like mine, I instantly dismiss this, while nodding, as there’s never been a baby like mine. I’m delusional like all mothers. I’m the same with her brothers. The only thing to burst my bubble is parents’ night but sure, what do they know? Two little marvels, yet to be discovered. Have you heard the one about those so
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clever they suffer from boredom? I love that one, a playground favourite. I’m a hop, skip and a cliché away from being completely delusional as I stop myself from saying they need to be ’challenged.’ I’m pinning all my hopes on my third. She rarely sleeps, surely that’s a sign of a gifted protégé.
Time seems to be the subject of most adult conversations; what time does she go down? How many times are you up? How much time do you have off? Where does the time go? And my husband’s favourite, what do you do with ALL your time? – though that
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one’s more a statement than a question. There are lunches to arrange, coffees to drink, and not forgetting my maths homework, which I feel is improving. Nothing like using your children to address past failures. I’ve been on this mummy journey for close to a decade now and the clichés don’t change. The talk is pretty universal, graphic and there’s lots of over-sharing. Just as I was getting out, I’m back to nappies, playgroups, mummies, and worries. But I am deliriously happy with my current reality. Ok, so I’ve not left sarcasm behind but
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I am actually happy. This worries me though. Not used to that feeling; contentment. Worry worms its way back into my life and I’m dreading my happiness being over and time passing-by, once again, too quickly.
Felicity Fox
SelfishMother.com
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Felicity Fox - 16 Mar 16
In my current hiatus from real life I’d like to stop the bus, thank you very much, and get off here at maternity leave junction. It’s a blissfully happy time, rudely interrupted once or twice, or maybe a couple of hundred times. Not just by Justin Bieber’s lyrics, of which I know them all and, if I could locate my tummy muscles, which, they too are having a hiatus, I’d be able to show you the funky moves. The interruption is coming from my/our adorable new baby. Adorable, I use the term loosely, not so when feeding, changing, winding, and repeating. But she does have her lucid times. She’s a mop of dark hair swept over to the side and silver strands which give her a look of wisdom.
A wise soul, I’m sure of it. When passers-by admire her and tell me that theirs had a mop of hair like mine, I instantly dismiss this, while nodding, as there’s never been a baby like mine. I’m delusional like all mothers. I’m the same with her brothers. The only thing to burst my bubble is parents’ night but sure, what do they know? Two little marvels, yet to be discovered. Have you heard the one about those so clever they suffer from boredom? I love that one, a playground favourite. I’m a hop, skip and a cliché away from being completely delusional as I stop myself from saying they need to be ‘challenged.’ I’m pinning all my hopes on my third. She rarely sleeps, surely that’s a sign of a gifted protégé.
Time seems to be the subject of most adult conversations; what time does she go down? How many times are you up? How much time do you have off? Where does the time go? And my husband’s favourite, what do you do with ALL your time? – though that one’s more a statement than a question. There are lunches to arrange, coffees to drink, and not forgetting my maths homework, which I feel is improving. Nothing like using your children to address past failures. I’ve been on this mummy journey for close to a decade now and the clichés don’t change. The talk is pretty universal, graphic and there’s lots of over-sharing. Just as I was getting out, I’m back to nappies, playgroups, mummies, and worries. But I am deliriously happy with my current reality. Ok, so I’ve not left sarcasm behind but I am actually happy. This worries me though. Not used to that feeling; contentment. Worry worms its way back into my life and I’m dreading my happiness being over and time passing-by, once again, too quickly.
Felicity Fox
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