Internal thoughts of this mother…

Sometimes a lot of the time I sit in silence and feel that my daughter doesn’t love me.

Doesn’t really like me much.

You have no idea how tough it is for me to have written that. How I know my husband would say that I am being totally ridiculous and that of course she does love me because I am her mother.

But I don’t think that that matters. That we are not simply loved because we are the parents. I wish it were that easy.

Actions speak louder than words.

I pick her up from either my mum’s place or my in-laws place and she’s not even bothered that I’ve walked through the door. I would be jumping out of my skin to see her and she could really care less. Then someone else will walk through the door and she will be beside herself with excitement.

And a small part of me dies inside.

I joke around about it and pretend I am not phased; I laugh along with them when they say “oh; she doesn’t want to go home – she wants to stay with me!” but inside I’m crushed. I look at her and am literally IMPLORING her with my eyes to show some any affection to me. But I get back nothing except her wriggling to get out of my arms.
And a small of me dies inside.

When we get home she’s fine; we play together and I make her laugh and feed her and bath her and then put her to bed. She’ll cry if I leave her bedroom too early t=so I wait for her to doze off then quietly walk out.
And I am fooled into thinking that she might actually love me.

Then it starts all over again and I feel worthless. Like I’m a terrible mother.

I try to tell myself its ok; that I don’t need her approval and that a mother’s love is selfless and that my job is to be her mother. That my role in this house is as ‘bad cop’ and I can handle that because whist she’ll not like me now, one day she’ll see my worth. It might be for another two decades or so but eventually she’ll see that everything I did; that I do now is for her.
I just have to wait.

And in the meantime (another) small part of me dies.

The roles we play: our true occupation

I am constantly amazed at the roles we, as individuals seem to play; both with our interaction with loved ones as well as our interactions in society. I am constantly baffled at how we end up with these ‘titles’/duties and cannot help but wonder if these roles only further reinforce our emotional roles within our family structures.

Take for example my role in my own relationship with my mum: I am the organiser, the fixer, the translator, the form filler, the corrector, the conflict resolution person, the calmer the list goes on but let’s let it t that… More and more, as my life evolves I start to realise that this role whilst in its entirety is with my mum; so many of these traits play key features in my other relationships.

In my household for example: My husband is the ‘worrier’ whilst I am the one who highlights the ease to his worry. I am the bill organiser, the planner, the contract reader. During moments of emotional upheaval I am the one who moves forward; plans, organises, calls; the shoulder to cry on; the person who bends over and picks up all their pieces and mends it/them all back together as I quietly stand beside them. I am the rock; the soft and quiet steady calm.

Today my cousin called from Doha to tell me that my uncle had passed away. He asks me to tell my mum – to make sure she is ok and gives me the necessary details: when he passed, when and where he is being buried today and why he had passed.

And then I notice how we move all that aside and talk of what needs to be organised: will my mum be heading off overseas? Will he be arranging for his mum (my mum’s now only remaining living sibling) to head over? That he is planning to organise things regarding my uncle’s kids (4 boys; 3 of which are still are very young) and his wife. We sit here in our respective countries and discuss what are the better options for a family that live in another country and I cannot help but see that this is the role my cousin and I play. Him being a man and older and more religious – he organises things; puts all the necessary things in place – arranges it all. And me being the understanding one to things in our family; I listen to his views and can actually give him input and options rather than bombard him with questions and worry.

We are the problem solvers; the calm.

I get off that call and call my mum. Explain to her the news; give her the details. Tell her again what my cousin told me. Explain the situation to her again and ask her that whatever she wants to do is up to her and that I would help arrange it. I am the calm. I listen to her barrage of fears, questions; her crying.
And I sit there silent and stoic – and I almost hate the fact that this is the way I have someone become programmed.

I go back to my desk (at work) and seemingly get back to work awash with sadness at the loss of my uncle and at the further cemented roles that my cousin and I play.

There are no tears.

There never are. They will come during a moment alone; a moment completely separate from this one where it will (probably) seem as though I am upset/crying over something else. I don’t know how else to be. This is just who I am.

Who I’ve always been.

WHERE did my fitness go?

After a long hiatus called child bearing+birthing+rearing I have bitten the bullet and re-joined the gym. It has been something that I have been SERIOUSLLY ‘umm-ing’ and mulling over for the last 6 months! Yep – I know that sounds like a LONG time to make a decision but really I could not justify the payments. I mean, I AM earning less these days (as I am not at work fulltime at the moment) and after we pay for all the necessities + baby needs and a few little bits and pieces for myself (nowhere near as many “bits & pieces” I used to get myself) I just DON’T have the heart to ask hubby to pay for gym membership too. So alas my fitness came a close second to new clothes and I elected to not join… until now.

After MUCH thought I decided that I really, really AM not liking my body the way it is since I had lil missy. Don’t get me wrong – I know that I am really fortunate and am grateful that whilst my body has changed, I haven’t put on that much weight but I literally HATE my midsection – I DISPISE how ‘thick’ I feel I am in the tummy region. I know that I am my own worst critic – hubby is often telling me to not be so hard on myself; that I look great (bless him) and that I need to realise that I am going to look different as I have had a baby but I can’t help it. I think its worse because I was little pre-pregnancy so that now when I see how things have changed I seriously beat myself up about it.

But anyway – here we are; baby almost a year old and I have finally joined a gym near my place. Don’t get me wrong; I really liked Fernwood (my old gym) fitness, but I needed to go to a gym that was:
A) Closer to home
B) Cheaper
C) Cheaper
So I joined Bailey’s Fitness; So far they seem ok – I needed something that had classes as whilst I don’t mind jumping on a treadmill/bike/other equipment, I really do enjoy going to classes….

Usually…

I went to my first ‘not-really-my-first’ Zumba class on Saturday morning. I left hubby with a sleeping baby and instructions for when she wakes up.
Oh
MY
GOODNESS!

WHERE, WHERE did my fitness go? WHERE?

I’d been doing quite a few (read: A LOT!) pelvic floor exercises post baby and had been pretty happy with the results until I realised by the end of the warm up ‘jumpathon’ that I was about ready to wet myself! Thankfully all went ok in that area by the end of the class, however after the hour I was beginning to think an angina was imminent. Let’s not even get me started on how unco-ordinated I was through the whole class! It’s as though lil missy took all my rhythm – VERY sad! Especially when I think about how much rhythm and co-ordination I usually have! i used to be able to dance the night away; do a Zumba class AND then head over and do 45 minutes worth of cardio. Really, if i wasn’t at the back of the class wheezing in agony i would have cried! I am hoping that this ‘issue’ is short term and that once I get through a couple classes I’ll get my groove back and not look so tragic!

One can only hope…

In the meantime I woke up Sunday with sore hamstrings and very tender arms! AND I have a personal training session tomorrow (Wednesday) morning – EEEKK! If I thought I was nervous for Zumba I am even more nervous for this PT session as there will seriously be no place to hide!

Wish me luck people….

I’m trying something new (no poo for me!)…

So I am on the cusp of trying something new… actually I have commenced the trying but in typical ‘me’ fashion I am dipping my toe in rather than jumping straight into the deep end!

I’m not a fan of the name of what I’m doing, but I’ll call a spade a spade… I am going NO POO!

i mean – look how happy she looks!

What this means is I am basically cutting out shampoo from my hair care regime… I am told (from research) that I will be happy with the results and my locks will be oh-so-wonderful…. ONCE I get over the “transition phase”. Don’t get me wrong, like most things one researches there was both pros and cons for trying this method but at the end of the day I have decided that really, what have I got to lose?

So WHAT am I using? I am using a Bicarb soda (1 tablespoon) + water (1 cup) concoction that I keep in a spray bottle in the shower and use instead of shampoo. To condition I am using apple cider vinegar (2 tablespoons) + water (1 cup). Of everything that I read regarding this method, I was told that I may have to ‘tweak’ it to suit my own hair needs. As my hair is curly and gets SUPER tangled (because I only ever comb it when its wet) I have already ‘tweaked’ it and BEFORE I do the apple cider vinegar + water creation I am actually cheating applying a smmmalll amount of conditioner to my ends and mid-lengths so I can comb my hair after I wash it.

WHY am I doing this? I sort of stumbled across it… I had quite some time ago jumped onto the Moroccan Oil (MO) shampoo and conditioner bandwagon and LOVED it. Then to sulphate free stuff with MO (called Seven Wonders) which, I found was even better for my hair! Anyway – the whole time I was pregnant I had such blissfully full, lustrous hair… then 3 months postpartum; BAM – HAIR FALL CITY! I am NOT talking the usual ‘hair clogging drain’ situation here. It looked more like there was a drown cat in my drain! Each and every wash made me anxious which in turn made the fall out worse – I KNOW that its “normal” to have hairfall postpartum because of the hormone changes but this was DEPRESSING to see! At one point, hubby popped his head into the bathroom as I was washing my hair and exclaimed “oh my GOD – Is everything ok? You should go see a doctor! That is a LOT of hair!!”

Thankfully since then all things have returned to normal – I switched my conditioner to one by Klorane which is especially for weak hair (which I TRULY think helped my ‘hair situation’ get back to normal quicker) but as I had read about this ‘no poo’ thing I started getting curious and wanted to know more… hence the research began…

Anyway – what with me now back at work but only 3 days week and all the stuff that we needed to buy for baby + bills etc I started looking at areas I could cut costs (whilst still maintaining other stuff)… the no poo thing seemed a far, FAR cheaper option! So I mulled it over, and mulled it over some more. Then did some research, watched some you tube video’s, did more research, mulled even more and watched even MORE You Tube video.

Enter a week ago and I am sitting at home and out of nowhere I finally decide that I am giving it a go!

So its been ONE wash… so far so good. BUT I think that that’s more because my hair hasn’t quite worked out what’s happened yet… I am HOPEFUL that my transition period won’t be too bad as I had read that if I you’re already using sulphate free shampoo and conditioner that your transition shouldn’t be too ‘crazy’

Anyway – I’ll keep you up to date on the progress and if it’s worth the go!

Aside

This time last year…

I CANNOT believe it is ALREADY October! October people… Where did the last year go? At the end of the month my lil cherub will be a year old… 1 YEAR OLD! It is maddeningly clichéd & scary how quickly time flies. It was this time last year I was having my last day at work and was nervous/hesitant/excited for the arrival of our little girl.

I remember the last 4 weeks of my pregnancy; I wasn’t that woman exclaiming “I’ve had ENOUGH, get this baby outta me!” but rather I think in the last 6 weeks I discovered that I LOVED being pregnant and having this human inside of me moving, playing, responding to my touch. I had so many melancholy moments where I wished I could keep her attached to me for ever… it was only really in the last week where I really felt huge, where going from a sitting position to standing required effort and I had to ‘hold’ the bottom of my belly if I stood up for too long.

I look at Amira now and I am amazed how fast she’s growing and am so hopeful for her and our lives together as a family. At the back of my mind there are so many fears that I have – will she realise how much I love her? Please let her be God-fearing, kind and good to her parents… will she realise the importance of education and constantly strive to better herself?

She’s 11 months now and I can already see little bits of personality shine through; how (for the most part) she is a pretty ‘cruisey’ child – she’s not fazed by much and is quite relaxed about most things; she’s not easily agitated and has always been placid. She’s an observer; when we get together for mothers group I notice how the other little girls are far more ‘rough and tumble’ – they attack toys and jump straight into ‘giving things a go’. Amira will watch them, observe then then decide from there. She’ll hold a toy and REALLY look at it; pass it from one hand to the other and then play with it. She seems to be a quiet, persistent achiever – I’ve noticed this on more than one occasion but it was never more evident than when she learned how to stand herself up against the sofa. She’s a happy baby but doesn’t laugh at everything – she makes you work for her laughter which I find so enduring.

Even as I type all that I can see her so clearly in my mind’s eye; as though I am in my living room and am watching her play with her toy Dora kitchen (and not sitting in my TV room while she’s sleeping for the night), I get all teary just thinking about how much I love her (I know, SO LAME!).

 

Post baby & your marriage

I just wanted to touch base very quickly – I promise to go into greater depth in the days to come… But what I will say is this:

Post baby your marriage changes.

Post baby I, the mother have a different set of priorities… What is important to you – to me as the mother can be vastly different to what your husband is thinking. And try as you may to explain things, you really can’t…

At the moments my thoughts are all over the shop… I’m tired, I’m a little frustrated & I’m beyond writing it all… I’ll get it all down soon… Promise

xx

Vanity post baby – A Changed Body

It’s now 9 weeks since the birth of my lil girl and whilst I’m trying not to think about it I cannot help but notice the changes that no one ever mentioned may happen! Don’t get me wrong – I knew I’d gain weight and I KNEW I’d have to put in work to get my stomach back into the shape it once was but there are other parts I am surprised about…

My ribcage… Strange huh but I SWEAR this has gotten bigger/wider; I tried on more than a few of my dresses & whilst the zipper got up halfway up my back there was no way it was budging around the rib area… And it’s not about fat as far as I can see! It makes me wonder if that means that even though I may lose my post baby belly I’ll now be a little “wider” in my dimensions!

My hips & ass… Now I knew my hips would get wider but I didn’t realize so too would my ass! The two things I AM grateful for about the increase in hip & ass size is that: (1) hubby actually likes the “hippy-er” me (go figure!) and (2) when I was going Zumba+gym+raw food crazy leading up to my wedding I’d actually lost quite a bit of “butt plump-ege” so now having it back ain’t SO bad!

But I don’t want to be that person who only laments and focuses on the negative… I KNOW that I’m only this way about my body because I AM my own worst critic and I was rather slim pre-baby, so this really is going to take some getting used to (with the changed shape) whilst I TRY to work it off! Anyway, as I said, there are other things that I am VERY grateful for; I literally slathered on the Bio Oil all through my pregnancy from 7weeks to 1 month after the birth all over my bust, stomach, thighs and butt (husband would constantly make fun of the post shower “oil slick”) and now, thank goodness I have not one stretch mark! And I did take my mums advice with not wearing heels (except for 1 dinner function and 1 engagement party) to avoid varicose veins – whilst I HATED not wearing heels to work (it was reeeaaalllyyy hard in the beginning before I looked obviously pregnant – I do so enjoy wearing heels) I am grateful to report that at no point did I experience seriously swollen feet or hands & I didn’t get any varicose veins!

And let’s not forget the most absolutely amazing gift of all that I now have: my beautiful Amira! She amazes me and humbles me on SO many levels… I love her beyond words, she is my soul – I truly feel my heart beats for her…

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