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Sunday, 3 November 2019

Oh to be a part-time working mum...

This morning, I was out walking our three dogs and trying not to let anyone die/run on the road/run away whilst making sure everyone is happy. And then in the afternoon. And then this evening. This means Bella's ball is being thrown, Bridget is running around and checking everything out, Bob just pottering along and Emilio either in his buggy chilling or running around, following the hose, playing in the games or whatever. It sounds lovely, maybe. It's sometimes beautiful but it is mainly the most stressful time ever. That bloody puppy just legs it coz she's a Beagle and my boy doesn't respond to his name/STOP/WAIT/IT IS NOT SAFE. I have uttered, on more than one occasion, 'would it be the worst thing if we lost her?', knowing FULL WELL my heart would break into a million pieces if the newest part of our family left us. I have also screamed, louder than you knew a scream could be, for my child to stop, or sprinted across a park and grabbed his arm just in time as a car has rounded the corner. The looks I get from some people, as I march around with a dog lead around my waist and 2 dogs attached to it, then another lead with Bob in my hand and either a buggy with Emilio in it or pushing it, or Emilio's hand in mine...some judgemental, some just like 'whaaaaa?' but some who are just gorgeous and ask about us. One lady the other night said, 'Eres un campeón,' just as she was passing with her one dog, and a huge smile. What a lovely thing to say and just what I needed at that moment. 

This week, I have been given the gift of time with my beautiful boy. We have been having the hardest time lately. Sleep is all over the place, from getting up at 1am for the actual day to a million times a night. We are no different from any other family with challenging sleeping patterns. We're not. But my overactive brain starts overanalysing: is it the ASD? Is it coz he's 3? Is it because he was abandoned? Is it trauma? Is it the change? Is it coz he loves our nanny and not me? Is it just because? Probably there isn't a clear answer and probably it's a combination of everything. But being home this week, being able to spend time with my child and not be stressed about getting to work, stressed about getting back from work at a good enough time to get any 'good' bits of his day, etc, etc, has worked wonders. Emilio and I have laughed and loved and smiled and giggled more in the last week than (it feels like) in AGES. Which obviously brings on a huge tonne of guilt. I'm being a crappy mum because I'm tired from being a teacher. And I'm being a crappy teacher from being a tired mum. Talk about a catch 22 (hated that book, FYI). 

We have 6 and a half weeks till end of the school year and until we are on a flight to home. I'm using this week as a reset. Reset my patience, reset my tolerance, reset my mind: I love my son and I love my job and I'll get better at juggling this stuff, I'm sure. So be kind. I'll be kind to others and please, please be kind to me. 

This is just so, so hard...so...to those mums who go out there to a job, whichever job that might be, and leave their child/children at home; I salute you. I'm in awe. I stand by you, empathise with you and feel all the guilt you do. To my mum, who raised 5 and then some, whilst working and then some; clearly, you're my inspiration and reason for my 'try me, I can do it!' attitude towards life. To those mums who have the joy of being able to stay home for a while, for forever or whatever in between; all of the above. For those that wish they could get back to work; I support you and send you courage and determination. Make it happen. What is abundantly clear to me is that there is ZERO right ways to Mum. Or Parent. All of us being as uniquely unique as we are mean that we all need different things from life: I vote kindness and support for all of us doing our best. 

Emilio and I have a different story to most other Mum and Son plot lines, but it seems that we share the same hatred of having to be apart. We have been having a full on brutal time for the last 6 weeks or so (I have lost count...) and I have genuinely felt desperate. Sleep so out of control to the point that I what'sapped my neurologist to ask him what on earth I could do. Rising times for the day between 1am and 3am. Then going to work and teaching the Tinies there like I actually knew what I was doing. Home to a tired and grumpy boy who hated me. I know that all parents reading this will know this same scenario. They just will. But going through it? Soul destroyingly heartbreaking. And exhaustion really messes with your mind. Crying in the car, the shower, whilst getting dressed, on a pee break at work...this chick was losing it and might still be. Who knows? 

No one said it would be easy and all that. My goodness, is he worth it! But my goodness, is this the loneliest I've ever, ever been whilst being happier than I've ever been, too. The Village is out there, but really, it's just Us. Russell Brand recently said something along the lines of that becoming a parent makes you the strongest you've ever been whilst making you the most vulnerable you've ever been. 

That. x

Current Best Bits: 
Saying 'thank you' or 'gracias' unprompted when he's given something.
Remembering to say 'hi' or 'bye' when prompted and sometimes unprompted.
Watching him problem solve. His mind blows me away. 
This is a Big One. Watching him run over to other children in the park and (initially) steal their ball...then actually play WITH them. Actually WITH OTHER CHILDREN. And laughing his head off the whole time. Yes, I cried my eyes out in the park and yes, the other Mamas were gorgeous to me when I told them he was autistic and this was a huge deal. And yes, I'm crying again as I write this. 
Singing to him in the car on the way to Nido. Got him out the carseat and he put his arms round my neck and squeezed so I just kept singing. Just stood singing 'Somewhere Over the Rainbow' till he decided we were done. 

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