Happy bloody birthday to me! Woohoo! Another year older and it’s time to be all philosophical and reflective whilst eating copious amounts of cake (because it isn’t a real birthday without cake y’know).
September is one of my favourite months; whilst most people are lamenting the sad passing of summer, I revel in the delights of cooler, crisper days and those protracted sunsets that dip beneath a vast canopy of russet and rust coloured leaves preparing their final display before they bare their branches ready for the winter.
It is a time to reflect, especially as the end of the year cheekily reminds you that it is waiting around the corner, preparing to pounce. This is the time you realise just how fast the year seems to have passed and yet the day to day living of it has been quite slow and steady. There’s that fleeting thought that there’s still time to make a change to your year and achieve a goal or two. There’s still three months until Christmas (but the greedy retailers are revelling in their promotions building hysteria and hype ready for the big day). There’s a lot to pack in before the end of the year.
So, how has the year been thus far?
Well, I think I’ve almost achieved some form of balance between part time working mummy and part time stay at home mummy – although like anything that’s balanced, it only takes one massive incident to throw those scales right out of kilter and to feel overwhelmed with either my parenting or my career.
The parenting routine seems to have been established, things seem less challenging than they did in those early days of motherhood when I didn’t have a clue what I was doing or whether I was doing it right. This is perhaps due to the developing communication skills of Pudding, as it’s easier to give a child what it wants when you know what it wants. D’uh!
I’ve also started to feel like the old me, this has been mainly through figuring out what to wear. This may seem odd but I went through a whole phase of completely losing my sense of style. I felt frumpy and disheveled. I lived in skinny jeans, a breton top and my converse because I just thought that’s what I ought to wear now I’m a mum. It’s ok now – I’ve started to dabble in trends again (a nice pair of dungarees and a few pinafores later and I’m reliving 1995), I’m wearing a pop of colour on the old lips and I’m all about the balayage through the tresses. Mum crisis averted – for the time being that is. There’s always an impending mummy crisis looming. One has to be careful not to over do it – there’s only so much you can get away with this side of thirty!
I also think I’m starting to come to terms with elements of my personality that I don’t like, such as being so self critical and deprecating. That annoying inner monologue needs to bloody sod off and harass someone else’s ego. Did anybody else’s self esteem hit rock bottom postpartum? I’ve still not managed the ‘not giving a crap about what people think’ step but I’m hoping that by this time next year that might be on the reflections for September list. Onwards and upwards as they say.
I still need to work on hobbies and interests – I want to pursue things and be more motivated but sometimes I just take the easier, lazier option. I’ll keep working on it – after all no one is ever a finished product. We just flow through life like a pebble being bashed and smoothed into a continuously changing shape. Our rough edges smoothed out as we learn to negotiate our way.
Bloody hell I’m in a philosophical mood tonight. I think it’s time to step away from the keyboard and head to that place of pure joy – bed!
So toodle pip to the great internet universe for tonight! Sleep tight!