Since I was young have always seemed to wish my life away. When I was little I wanted to be grown up, to be able to do all the things my Mum said I could do ‘when I was older’ and to be heard by the adults around me. When I moved into my teenage year I wanted to be eighteen so I could go out and drink or learn to drive and gain that sense of freedom that comes with the turning of age. When I was twenty I wanted to be in my mid-20’s, and looking forward to getting married and having a family. So now I am one year off thirty, what do I wish for?
Quite often it is to go back in time, to a place where I was free to do what I wanted, when I wanted, without any worry or stress. To be able to lie in on a Sunday morning without disturbance, to sit and read a book without feeling guilty that I should be doing something more productive with my free time. To lay in the bath when the little one has gone to bed, knowing that I am not spending my only hubby time wallowing in the tub.
I finally have what I always longed for – a fantastic husband and a family of my own. But sometimes I can’t help but wish for things I know I shouldn’t, and the guilt I feel over this is terrible. I love Holly and every day she makes me smile a million times, but sometimes I just long for the days when she is a bit older and less reliant on me. A time when I can go empty the washing machine or dishwasher without having to chase around after her as she causes destruction in her wake. I await the days when she is in nursery for a few hours, giving me my own time again, maybe even a chance to get out to work and chat to other human beings. Other times I wish she was still a baby, only waking to be fed or changed and then falling back to sleep again and laying happily in her moses basket, nice and still. It’s funny how time fades out the midnight feeds and inconsolable screams, isn’t it?
With all this wishing and hoping for another time or place it brings up other emotions. Like guilt. Damn I hate that feeling, yet it’s something I deal with on a daily basis. Guilt that I don’t do enough around the house, guilt that I don’t spend enough time playing with Holly, guilt that I don’t fully appreciate my daughter and the gift I’ve been given, even guilt that I’m not looking after myself enough and therefore Baby Boy. Add to that the feeling that it’s never enough – that even when I get what I want I can’t just sit back and be happy. Why can’t I appreciate all that I have? Why do I still want more?
There isn’t really a conclusion to today’s post, I guess I just needed to get that off my chest. Today I am not feeling very well so Holly is spending the day with her Grandparents. I intend on watching crappy TV, sleeping and eating junk. Bring on more guilt….