Thursday 23 March 2017

Health | I'm a Stressed out Mum

I'll be first to admit I'm a massive stress head. I stress over things I shouldn't stress about, I even stress before there's things to stress about and I think it has a lot to do with my anxiety, I like things to go as planned and if they don't, my anxiety levels just rise and I can become so unreasonable. I can't help it, it's just who I am, but it's something I'm working on. I'd like to think that over the years I've calmed down a bit or I've at least tried to anyway. I think us mums feels the strain more because we juggle so much and nobody wants to talk about it because everybody wants to give off the impression they're coping. 

I have a toddler, a very independent two year old boy that likes to do whatever the fuck he wants. On top of this, he's dead clever and is always looking for something new to do. This results in him often becoming bored or frustrated easily and we all know this can be disastrous. Before Henry came along, this was reasonably manageable but I'd still become stressed when George would misbehave and I was trying to get things done. I would get stressed if we were running late for something, which inevitably happens when you have little ones. I guess it's because we're never really in control are we? It's normal for kids to demand your attention but it doesn't make it an easy when there are dishes overflowing in the sink.

When I got pregnant, hormones took control, my stress levels were ten times worse. Hormones are a bitch like that aren't they? It could be that George wouldn't choose a book, or pick something up that he had thrown. Luckily, I have Laid Back Pete, who is always happy to take over in a situation like this. Crisis averted. Stress levels down. 

Then Henry came along, queue mega stress levels 24/7. When I had one kid, I maintained a tidy(ish) house (I'm not the tidiest of people at the best of times) but it was livable. Now I have two babies and oh my goodness. My stress levels have magnified by a hundred. We almost never leave the house on time, I have laundry up to my eye balls, the dishwasher is constantly whirring, there are toys scattered everywhere, and I hate it. I hate that this is out of my control, no matter what I do, things are never easy. Not that I expected it to be but as soon as I think I'm on top of everything, I blink and I'm five days behind. 

Today I got my period, the first period I've had since before Henry was born, so it's been nearly twelve months. Just when I thought my hormones were in the process of settling down after the arrival of my squishy newborn, they're back. Oh and they're back with a vengeance. I'm sore, I'm grouchy and I'm torn between wanting to eat everything in sight or kill somebody. Pete went to work late afternoon, I was on my own with both boys, bear in mind, Pete had taken George swimming in the morning, I'd had some time to myself and I'd even had a bath. Well as soon as he went to work, both boys kicked off (I'm sure kids can sense when you're on your own - bastards!) and I could have cried. In fact, I snapped at George, my poor two year old, who wasn't misbehaving, he was just being two. I was instantly hit with a wave of mum guilt, it wasn't my boy's fault that I was miserable today. He doesn't understand about hormones and all the rest. I changed his nappy, I picked him up off his changing mat, gave him a cuddle and a big massive kiss and said "I'm sorry for being grumpy, babe." And you know what he said to me? "I'm sorry for being grumpy too. I'm sorry for waking Henry up." I nearly melted there on the spot. I didn't feel better, I felt even more guilty that I had been such a bitch. We sat on the beanbag, we cuddled and we watched a movie. I know he won't remember it. I know we have more fun times than miserable times but I don't want him to grow up and think I am a moody mummy. 

We can get so caught up in the stress of the moment, things that don't need to be stressed over, especially when it comes to our little ones. There are times when I let George run about in the garden, get muddy, get wet and don't bat an eyelid, that's childhood. So why am I so bothered if he accidentally makes a mess when he's eating (sometimes he does it on purpose, but not always)? 

I have been trying to control my stress levels - some days are easier than others but the thing I always remember is they are just babies. Babies that need their mummy and I love being their mummy. Some days I could cry because I just want one day to myself, a day where I don't want to answer to the name mummy and I will complain about it (mostly to Pete) but the truth is, I wouldn't want it any other way. I've probably said to Pete about a hundred times "no more kids - I hate them" today alone. Do I mean it? Well I'm not ready to get my tubes tied just yet ;) 

How do you deal with stress as a mum?

Rachael xo

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