After a wonderful (albeit hectic) day at the beach, we arrived home exhausted. There was still the car to unpack, sand filled clothes that needed dusting and soaking and left over food to be put away and dishes to wash.
The telephone rang. It turned out to be an invitation to dinner. I was honestly not in the mood for anything but sleep. I told mum we would “see how we go” (my way of saying, not very likely). She then offered to pick the kids up and have them spend the evening with her. I didn’t think twice. I bundled the children in the car, and sent my husband to drop them off.
My initial thought when they had left the house was, “Did I actually do that? I happily sent my children away without a moment’s hesitation?”
When my first child was born, I was extremely possessive. I could not be away from him for longer than a minute & I used to hover around people when they were carrying him, itching to have him back in my arms. While that same feeling hasn’t changed, I sometimes do need time away from them or at least time to myself.
It isn’t because they drive me absolutely crazy (which they do some days, no argument about that), it isn’t because I’m sick of them, or that I’m tired of doing for them. It isn’t because they never let me get any housework done either. It’s because I realised my obsessiveness wasn’t healthy. I’m not sure if I was suffering a mild form of post natal depression – perhaps I was just completely burned out. I was doing myself and my family a huge disservice by focussing completely on my child and not caring for myself.
It doesn’t have to be a weekend away, it doesn’t even have to be a whole day away. The children don’t even have to leave the house. A half hour with a good book and a cup of tea is all I need to feel like me again & refreshed to tackle the kids and the house.
I was selfish yesterday and I don’t feel the tiniest bit guilty for it. The best way to look after my children is to look after their mother.
