They say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. They say that having Tiny Humans makes a marriage. They say you will live happily ever after.
I want to find who "they" are and strangle the living shit out of them.
When that blue line confirms that, no you didn't get more pee on your hand than the stick and that you are in fact PREGNANT! Your mind does a reverse Scooby doo moment and fast forwards you to soft edged images of you, your new bundle and the love of your life, sauntering through a hayfield, shards of afternoon sun warming your hearts and faces as you breathe in the world and thank it for bringing this wonderful man into your life and thus the blissful giggles of your Tiny human.
God how stupid were we?
Back in the real world you are still thankful (most days) for the squeals of your tiny human but as for the love of your life....well lets face it, not so much.
What the hell happened to us? A question all us post baby couples ask ourselves at least once post baby if not once a bloody day! Where have those funny, lovers of life, spur of the moment people gone? You know the ones, they used to laugh together, loved hanging out together and revelled in being the best at looking after each other....
Two years and two kids later and I honestly think my hubby could come in with his leg in his hand and I'd ask him if he had managed to put a wash on or hang his coat up! Which has left me asking am I a heartless biatch?
This all came to light, last night after my other half put his neck out and has been in agony ever since and is now struggling to move his head (let alone pack up the car, pick up the babies or change a shitty nappy - cue heartless bitch alert). I suddenly realised whilst he was reliving the moment of pain to me last night, still dripping wet (water over the bloody kitchen floor I now had to mop up - gee thanks!) that I found myself thinking "Bloody great, heres to a night of moaning and me having to do bath time on my own!"
It was my level of irritation that stopped me in my tracks and made me think how different my reaction would have been pre baby. I firstly, would have given a shit! Not to say I don't now but I would be lying if I proclaimed to be totally occupied with how he is feeling and what I can do to help. I secondly would have run around getting him everything he needed to make him more comfortable, offering a neck rub, pills and sympathy, rather than just feeling annoyed we were a man down and secretly thinking "Is it really that bad?" Again cue heartless biatch alert!
If I throw total caution to the wind ( by forgetting he will probably read this) and be completely honest, I just don't have the time for it. I don't have any more energy left to give or any more caring bones in my body that have not already been highjacked and claimed by our two Tiny Humans.
Cue the question "When the hell did this happen to us?" When the hell did we stop giving a shit about each other like how we used to? I hate to admit it but as the second baby came along, delivering us with two Tiny Humans under Two, which, as grateful as we are for them, they have filled every corner of our lives, minds and pre occupations squashing me and thee to the other sides of our new universe, with no time to spare and no spare energy to spare for each other.
It's a difficult one to admit to ourselves, let alone anyone else that you have slipped into that dreaded cliche of 2.5 children, nagging at each other, worrying about money and falling into bed for nothing more exciting than sleep. It's even harder when you are faced with the unrealistic bullshit of what a happy, harmonious family should be. You know the one where the successful husband is always home to bath the kids and pour his wife a glass of Chablis. The hot mum who is equally good at baking toddler friendly cookies as she is at giving head and scintillating conversation (not at the same time - no one is that good!). The couple who despite having three kids, still find time for date nights and dirty weekends away and just can't wait to have more children as they are just so shit hot at this parenting lark and in particular looking shit hot whilst doing it. We've read the blogs with the glossy and perfect family images whilst we are sat in our puke stained tracksuit bottoms, pushing a dry shampooed laden bit of hair out of our knackered faces to get a better look as we ask ourselves "Shit are these parents for real? Is this really what our life should look like?!"
NO IT'S BLOODY NOT!
Who has time to bake cookies let alone factor blow jobs into the equation and as for sintilating conversation, that's more exhausting than the thought of fellatio! So how the hell do we find the balance between the bullshit we are fed through the glossy mags and blogs and the reality of what our every day lives actually look like? And how do we get back to properly giving a shit about our other halves?
Without wanting to sound like I am as bad as the rest and trying to bullshit you, I think I may have found the answer and it's so annoyingly simple - believe me I am so pissed off at myself for not realising it sooner. Getting ourselves back on track starts with two words.....
"Thank you"
Bare with me as this is not some airy fairy bullshit. If like me you think back through any moments you have wanted to kick the ass of your partner or moments where you have just about had enough, don't they all stem from feeling under appreciated and like all your hard work keeping the babies alive, running the house and juggling the ups and downs of Motherhood go unnoticed and without any thanks? Ok, so on paper having your partner say thank you to you for looking after your Tiny Human all day may seem ridiculous or not needed but just think how great it would make you feel to hear it. And vice versa, saying a thank you to your partner for going out to work, putting out the bins or making dinner may not be ground breaking or rock and roll but in its simplest of forms it is showing our bestest mates and "our person" that they are appreciated and that we notice them.
I admit it I feel like I am run ragged most days and that my life is now all about other people. Don't get me wrong I chose to have children and love the bones of them but sometimes I just need to hear "thank you" and so does my hubby. Us and the men in our lives need to know that amongst the madness of this new world we have found ourselves in and between the wall to wall baby paraphernalia and endless sleepless nights that we matter to each other and that out of everyone in the universe we have their back and are thank full to share it all with them. (Regardless of their stiff necks and your puke covered track bottoms). If a thank you leads to feeling appreciated which in turn leads us and our other halves to feel like we actually give a shit then before you know it we will be baking cookies and.....OK that's a step too far but you get where i'm going!
I tell you what, i'll go first....here goes....
Mr Jamie Siegl, "MERCI BUCKETS" for organising my shit today and for not moaning (too much) about your neck - You Rock!
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