Not as chipper as I thought i’d be. Now I knew parenting and having a newborn with a delicious touch of 2 year old was going to be difficult. I never ever thought it was going to be easy. But it turns out, it’s a hell of a LOT more difficult than I expected. It’s a jungle here in Wunna land. A draining circus of emotional mayhem. I’m running on hormones and taking a look at the pieces of life that I have, realizing that all it has become…and all my relationship has become is the art of passing one baby to the other adult, in order to balance our time with each bambino and pretty much so Ruby doesn’t feel left out…This occurs every 20 minutes. That’s it. That’s my life.
I’m now in the glorious stage where I feel like I don’t have a hobby, a world to my own, a glitzy bit of me left…and i’m in my fluffy slippers, with back ache…old, tired and not even able to tend to the smallest things that I want to do, in fact no…not even being able to tend to the smallest things that I don’t particularly have great passion to do, yet HAVE to do. For example…it’s got the stage where I can’t do my face, without it taking ages, due to ‘every second’ interruptions. OR i can’t even have a quiet 5 minutes to do something as simple as brush my teeth, without having to stop half way through it to take care of a bambino. It’s hard. But it’s what I chose and when you choose a bed to lay in, a path to walk down and one that’s pretty permanent…you sort of have to snuggle in, or slip off those once divine glittered stiletto’s, get on with it and do it with love, after pulling out that inner strength and pegging it on the line, still attached to you and just so it doesn’t pop back in. (Oh and don’t get me wrong. When i say take off those glittered stilettos… I’m not saying wear flats. That’s a sin. I’m just saying…IMAGINE you’re not in glittered stilettos. Never wear flats. You need to feel mighty during this stage of your life..and Jimmy Choo, in fact even Primark’s best can aid you at such a time. 🙂 But don’t wear shoes from Primark, i’m sure they’ll give you ouchies. Maybe the leopard print ones wouldn’t? )
Anyway, whoever said’ having two babies is like having one’…WAS WRONG. Of course they were. How stupid of me. Having two babies, is like having TWO babies. Obviously! A two year old and a newborn…is a juggling act. A joyous time of family and love…but OMG hard work. Hard enough to make me weep. I’m sort of a distant memory to myself now to the point where i’m flash backing and remembering being a young, fun loving 20 something girl, in Hollywood, wiggling and sipping Malibu pineapples with hotties, at gay bars. In fact one memory that weirdly keeps cropping up, is ME dressed as a BELLY DANCER (Pink and silver, hurrah….) with one of my guy friends, and a gaggle of big buff gay men, all styly and West Hollywood singing ‘Tell me where you get that body from…tell me where you get that body from…I got it from my Mama…I got it from my Mama…’ in chorus at me and some even harmonizing… because I was so FIT.
Now…i’m not in a belly dancing outfit and I have pooey nappies and screaming babies around me. I think i’m just going through a very honest phase of the blues. Not the ‘baby blues’ because my kiddiwinkles are my world and I adore them with every inch of my heart. Just a yummy swirl of hormone imbalance. Fun! I need gin. I shouted about it, cried at it, and now blogged about it, (it has taken me TWO HOURS to fully write this blog without interruptions)… so hopefully it will go away. When you’re looking at the past and thinking you had it better then…it means you wrongly feel that you have nothing going on in your present, when you HAVE, you just need to see it. I mean Keiran told me off the other day for wishing for the past to be my present…But he used to ALWAYS do that and I put up with it, so he cant really finger point. I heard every day for months how much he missed his old life. At the time he never thought how that would make me feel until now…when I felt it and expressed it.
The truth is…I have EVERYTHING going on…yet this mist of madness is taking over my kitty cat being. My son is beautiful, my daughter is my world, my husband loves me dearly…and if we work hard enough we’ll make our dreams come true. Nothing in my life is bad…i just have to remember that. You have to be positive to attract positive things.
I couldn’t handle it all the other morning. Ruby was making every little decision much harder than necessary, by saying ‘NO’ to my every suggested move. I looked in the mirror and saw the fat, old unsexy version of myself. I looked at my clothes and saw that I had nothing new and glamour pussy to wear and all of this while rocking a baby who was crying because he had wind. It made me cry. #princess
The good thing is that when life looked like it was getting hard, Keiran and Rubes sauntered out the house to (i don’t know why i want to say ‘fetch a pale of water’…they didn’t do that, it ain’t no nursery rhyme.) They sauntered out for a good 15 minutes and came back up the garden path with a giant bunch of flowers…pink lilies for me to make me smile. That’s what’s good about my husband. It’s those moments that he becomes mighty and tries to pull us all together like one big troop of ‘army strong.’ That was so lovely…that it made me cry more. Lol. Hormones are hideous.
Last night, he came to talk to me as I was tucked up in bed watching Ruby sleep. He quietly told me how love, family and pulling together works and how we have to be as parents in order to make it work. He kissed me and told me that i have to trust him and remember that he said that everything would be more than okay and that he loved me and was going to be here for me ALL the way through every step. All i have to so is pretty much keep calm and carry on. Then he told me I was a ‘strong woman,’ and i’m always really sceptical when people say that. I find it really cliched and annoying. I’m strong when i’m strong and i’m weak when i’m weak. It’s part of human nature. No-one is strong all the time. No-one is weak all the time. It’s robotic and wrong if they are.
The good thing is that i have a man that loves me and he loves our family and wants the best for our world. He’s setting the example and well Daddy-hood, although hard on him also, suits him. He knows it’s not easy, but he’s really taking it by the reins and being a champion at it. I already need a holiday. Lol. I think i felt sad because I was this independent vixen of ambition…and well now i’m a gusset scrubbing, baby rocker. It’s fine if you’re a gusset scrubbing, baby rocker with £10 million in the bank. Otherwise…it’s not fun at all. It’s looong, but out of love and sacrifice…you do it. I LOVE baby Ruby and baby Junior and when i stop moaning…:) …it’ll all be quite dandy.
The thing that Keiran doesn’t get is that this hasn’t JUST started for me. For the last NINE months i’ve MADE sacrifices. I’ve been pregnant…and haven’t been able to really DO ANYTHING, go anywhere, have any fun…be me, or feel like me. I’ve stayed at home, nursed a bump, endured a physical, emotional and mental transformation, stayed in, stayed home and looked after a 2 year old. I’ve cooked when I haven’t wanted to and well…just sacrificed, whereas through my pregnancy he’d been out, he’d done boys nights, drank, stayed out late….played golf, worked, worked out…everything he wanted. If not everything…a lot more than I could do. I mean he could so the simpliest things that I couldn’t do and I mean as simple as….see my toes. Men never think of that or what we’ve been through. Keiran’s all heart and a tremendously loving soul and even still he doesn’t think of that.
I’m just going through the initial ‘diva’ moan of it all, then i’ll shimmie myself together and get this show on the road.
Happy Sunday. Happy Father’s day…I have a wonderful Father…I’m the luckiest girl in the world…I just need to remember that and let that mist fade away.