Friday, 24 April 2015

"A Mother's Sacrifice"

I hate the title of this already. I hate the wording, it sounds like some sort of obligatory ritual.

In this day and age we have complete control over our fertility and we choose to have our children. I wouldn't have it any other way, I adore my kids.

However, just sometimes this whole "Mother's Sacrifice" concept runs through my brain and tramples my thoughts. On a bad day. An essay is probably due in. House jobs are stacking up and work is more than in the way. The eldest has probably told me she hates me, the youngest may have drawn on the wall and the middle child might have wet herself, and the floor.

Something like that.

That's when this whole phrase irks me. I look in the mirror. Silver flecks of hair, like wire sticking out from either side of my head. My glasses, plastic, cheap. Leggings - with spots of bleach on or holes in. My top, stained with vomit or something else. I try and remember the last time I went to the hairdresser's.

Then I think some more. When was the last time I actually went somewhere that wasn't work or home? When did I do something that didn't involve the children, other than work? I struggle to think. Then I struggle to push the bitterness away. This word 'sacrifice' tosses and turns in my mind and I feel guilty for feeling this way. I need new clothes. I need a hair cut. I cut it myself and it is a mess. I need to dye it but can't find the time or the spare cash - there is always something further up the priority list.

I go through this whole bad day, one of my days off work. I just do things. I wash up. I clean. I cook. Bath them, sing to them, read to them. Then when they are in bed I am shattered having done nothing for myself. Some days I am lucky if I get to talk to an adult. I tut and blow and carry on. There is an essay due in. I need to think about that. But I'm tired and more than a little down.

I wonder if all Mums get like this from time to time. I feel guilty again. I wonder if I will get the chance to have my hair done. I don't even know what I want doing, I'm ridiculous because I'm nervous about getting my hair cut because I have not had it done for ages. I need more time. I should give up my education too because that takes up time? I don't really have leisure time before 9pm. After 9pm I drink a couple of glasses of wine and go to bed. I can't remember what I did for leisure before I had the kids.

I complain. I need things:

* Time
* Money
* Space
* Time away from the kids
* Time to buy the things I need (without the kids there)

But there is none and I don't know what this thing called "me time" is.

The children follow me to the toilet. They follow me to the bath.

I feel guilty again for thinking I need space.

I write my essays with one child on my knee, one pulling at my hand.


9 comments:

  1. Time to yourself is SO important and you'll feel so much better for taking it x x

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  2. I could have written this post myself. (Minus the degree part)! I can tell you exactly when I last visited the hairdressers.... June 2013. My glasses are also plastic. My leggings and £4 Asda Tshirts are also holy. I last out with my husband (minus the kids) in 2013 (when we got 2 hours away, for a meal for my 30th birthday). I have taken to putting them into the creche at the Trafford Centre on a Saturday morning so I can get 2 hours' peace to enjoy a hot brew and do a bit of shopping. That's my "me time". My kids do opposite nursery sessions so I always have one or the other - or both with me. Sam's Autism adds extra hell to the equation. I plod on, never really thinking of myself. Always putting others first. Constantly feeling guilty. You're not alone xx

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  3. Oh Kerrie, we all go through that, In the next couple of years will look back & wonder how you did it & will feel very proud of all you have done. In the meantime lock them all under the stairs x

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  4. You deserve me time and really shouldn't feel guilty. Happy mum = happy children. I truly believe that and think you so deserve a break honey xxx

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  5. It's like I'm looking in the mirror. I go to work just to have a break. Tomorrow I am doing a shit gig and have booked 3 mothers to do it with me just so we can all leave our kids and sit on a long car journey and actually have a conversation with out a kid humping our legs! It's the only break I have to look forward to. And tonight I dyed my hair 3 shades darker so that it will last longer as God knows when I'l get a chance to do it again.
    I can't believe that you have 3 kids, a job, a home to look after, a husband and you're.doing a DEGREE! It's truly admirable and you should acknowledge that.
    And PS.I was at work and noticed a hole on my leggings. So I got a black felt pen and coloured my skin in to hide it...because who has time to go shopping or get a sewing kit out?! X

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  6. Really honest post. I am sure every mom can relate to it. I absolutely do some 'tutting, blowing & carryingoning' myself. It's not a great place to be but I'm just there sometimes! You do have TON on your plate. I always got really stressed and crabby at the end of term in Uni and that was with no kids and no real obligations. Well done to you and go book yourself a day at the salon or at least lock yourself in the bathroom for an hour ;)

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  7. I love your posts. I cut my own hair too. And feel like shit too. Much love to you, it will pass. X

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  8. We've all been there at some point. I feel massively guilty for all the me time I have had since the kids started school although somehow it still never seems long enough. Still it's a start I suppose. I think you have to look at the bigger picture - there may be bleach stained leggings and long hair now but who knows what will happen once you have that degree under your belt. P.S. I also colour in bleach spots on my tshirts. xx

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  9. You're so right and I love the way you write it. That you can't even think of what you want while the kids are around. But there is no time when the kids aren't around (and you're not at work). I admire you so much following your studies and doing so well at uni when you have two under three! You are a legend. xx

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