Feelings of inadequacy; part II

Feelings of inadequacy have followed me around like a bad smell since I was little. For some reason I have always felt inadequate, never really having confidence in myself or my skills. I don't know where this stems from. Whether it is born from circumstance or events I don't - or can't - recall, or whether this is inbuilt in me. Like a strand of my DNA. Was I born to second guess myself..?

I had two great friends while in high school, and as part of an awesome threesome I always felt like the outsider. They never gave me reason to think this but I was convinced that they liked me the least and that they would much rather hang out with each other, without me there. This is just one example of my inferiority complex.

I convince myself, time and time again, that people don't like me. As much as I know most of this is paranoia, I really do feel that most of them don't. I seem to struggle to make long-lasting connections with people and I don't know why, but a lot of the people I meet just don't seem to have the time or space for a little bit of 'Stephanie' in their lives.

As you can imagine, this makes me pretty sad if I dwell on the matter. Thankfully I have someone in my life now who does like me and who only really has time and space in his life for me. Hurrah. But I say this with a sense of sadness too because I know my son can't be my 'best friend' forever. An ex boyfriend of mine once said to me, 

"Your only friends are me and your mum."

He was a cock. But is words stayed with me and now his words are morphing with the words running through my mind...

"Your only friends are your husband and your son."

Ack. 

That statement fills me with a melancholy sense of completion. How lucky I am to call these boys my best friends but how lonely it is to not have any other friends to call upon. Friends seem to slip through my fingers like grains of sand, despite my best efforts, and the ones I am lucky enough to call forever-friends are not on hand, living their own busy lives in other countries.

But the point of this piteous post is that, as a mother, it is more important now (more than ever) to be making firm friends. To be joining in on the community that is motherhood and finding some friends for my boy. I can live with my sadness of not having very many friends, but to tie my son to the same fate without helping him along the way is a thought that doesn't sit comfortably at all. Every parent wants for their child, what they did not have for themselves. And I'd like my boy to have some solid friends, from an early age, for life. He deserves it.

And as such I'm putting myself out there. I'm forcing myself to get involved with local groups, as uncomfortable as that feels. There are a few groups around here that I've managed become part of virtually, now I'm going to try and get stuck in physically. I only hope that once they meet 'us', they'll be happy to have us again. And again. And again. 

;)

{Self inflicted} pressures of being a mama..

I'm a terrible house wife. Fact.

Every day my mind heaves with the torment of self-inflicted* pressure. Pressure to do more chores; pressure to be a better mama; pressure to look better; pressure to be a better person. Suffice it to say, I don't get a whole lot of this stuff done. I barely scrape through the day, some days, and that's ok.... to an extent.

When Chuck naps, I walk from room to room assessing the amount of chores to do in each room and set about trying to tackle the mountainous amount of work required to get our house 'in order'. I fail each and every day. The little things take SO. LONG. I swear I spend 95% of my available time wiping food from the floor, folding clothes and making [another] coffee. And then he's awake again, and we go back to the beginning of the list. Again.

I'm not complaining. Far from it. I just wish I was better, more efficient. Useful in fact.

I dont want to be one of those clean-freak moms [fat chance of that ever happening really] but I dont want my boy growing up in chaos either. I want us all to be able to enjoy our limited space better, and lord knows living a clutter-free life can be cathartic. I still have aspirations of a minimalist lifestyle - one day. Or at least, one day I'll have enough cupboard space to make it look like we live a life of minimalism.

I'd like to make some headway though. I just don't know where to start. Or really how to get there.

Being a mama is supposed to make you organised so how come I still cant figure out enough time in my day to wash my hair?

Gah.

*It is self-inflicted but I really should do better, right? I mean, I just should iron when I'm exhausted, right? That's what other mothers do, right?

A moment alone

A moment alone to sit on back back-doorstep, sip a decaf coffee and munch my breakfast while soaking up the first offering of UV this country has had to offer this year is a rarity these days. As a mother, moments alone don't really exist. Unless you class sleeping as moments alone, and lord knows there isn't a lot of that going on these days either.

So to be sat here, alone - soaking in my fair share of vitamin D - is a pure and fleeting treat. You learn to accept these small moments as precious when you have children. They're like a mega-quick-power-up and they leave you pumped and ready. Ready for when that adventurous,curious and energetic baby wakes from his nap. They leave you ready and able to give and receive the love and fun that bursts from every seam of your child.

These moments don't last long. But when I'm lucky enough get one, I sit and let my brain stop. Stop for a moment to rest and reflect. Reflect upon how fabulously lucky I am to be in this position. To have this sweet and amazing boy. To be his mummy. It lets you put those tired, grumpy and irritable moments, that can sometimes make being a mamma so difficult, to bed. To remember how utterly blessed I am to be the person who gets to raise this boy. To watch him grow and smile each day.

When you're a mama, moments alone are rarely moments alone because the first thing that springs to mind is that little person who made you crave this moment alone in the first place. This is the beauty of being a mama; this ain't no part-time gig. And I love it.

365 days, 52 weeks, 12 months....1 year

My baby is one year old. Today.

We had grand plans for intimate celebrations including great friends, balloons and a baby let loose with 3 dozen donuts. The day didn't pan out as planned and a nasty bout of severe teething sidelined all of our planned activities. A pretty sad ending to what has been a terrifically chilled week away with our two besties and our best-boy.

We've tried to not dwell on it though, vowing to 'try-again' tomorrow. And the day wasn't a complete disaster. After all, Chuck got to play in a playground this morning in his pyjamas at 8am and, after our we got over the day's first teething hump, we spent a bit of time at a local butterfly/animal park which Chuck seemed to enjoy very much. The day was not totally lost.

I can hardly believe that this time last year I was cosying down in my hospital bed with an 11-hour-old baby nestled atop of my chest. This year that same baby is soundly asleep in his own bed. He has grown so very much since the day I gave birth. He has learned and accomplished so much in that short space of time. But his biggest accomplishment so far has to be his ability to continually make my capacity to love him grow with each day. I'm a mum, so yeah, I love that boy like hell, but his little face and expanding personality makes me fall deeper and harder for him every day.

This sweet, fun, energetic and loving boy - who has so much joy in his eyes - is a blessing to my life. He is a privilege and I'm so excited to celebrate each coming year with him, even if I do wish I could keep him my sweet baby forever.

Happy first birthday, Charles Henry Buddy Barker. You make my world go round.

xoxo

Counting my blessings {while Spring-cleaning my Drafts folder}

I'm a prolific blogger. That is, if you count the amount of saved drafts in my drafts folder. I regularly write a post in a flurry with a view to coming back to it to edit and publish. I never, ever, do. Until now. One post a week until that draft folder is empty. At the time I wrote the post below I felt it needed more. More substance, more heart, more words. But actually, after reading it back tonight, I can see that the rawness is all that matters. I should have posted this immediately after writing it....

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Becoming a mother has changed me. Sounds obvious right? Well, yeah, but becoming a mother has fundamentally changed me, irrevocably, permanently.

I've felt for a long time that I wanted to do something meaningful with my life and when I became pregnant I knew that this wish had become even more important because I want my children to have a mother to be proud of. Being a mother is massively meaningful and very very satisfying, but it isn't enough to make my son proud.I need to do more.

Tonight is Red Nose Day and I'm sat watching Comic Relief as i have for many years prior to 2013. It's always a tough watch. Seeing children in severe poverty and distress is never going to be a comfortable watch but this year I have a totally new perspective. Now I'm a mother. I have a child of my own and suddenly I can feel, share and practically touch their pain. It just takes one second of hearing a child with malaria or pneumonia crying out for help to know I absolutely MUST do something.

I've donated money but its not enough. I do not feel comfortable knowing that this amount of pain is rife in the world. My money helps. God does it help. The money I have donated will provide enough vaccinations to protect at least a handful of children and that is amazing beyond words. Anything any of us can give is incredible and its worth the uncomfortable viewing and many-a-tear shed but still I feel I should be doing more. I just don't know what. There's only so much money I personally can donate but I feel totally compelled to do something to make a difference. I need to put some serious time and effort into thinking about how I can make a long-lasting difference to this cause.

But one thing I can be certain of, and that is that I can count, and count again my blessings. For they are plentiful. To be blessed with this life and this supremely awesome (and pretty privileged) child of mine is my life made whole. To know that the extent of our complaints reaches to "I'm exhausted" and "I wish we had a bigger house"..well, they're hardly complaints at all.

Time to count my blessings and crack on with finding a real, and tangible way to help.

Failings of a blogger

When I started this blog my main goal was to share and document our journey into parenthood and beyond. So far, I've completely failed. I want to write great, emotive posts about how I feel about my son so badly. The huge amounts of pressure I've put on myself to write 'well' has meant that I've scared myself into writing nothing at all and while I have experienced many-a-beautiful-moment like the one in the picture above, that's indelibly etched on my heart, there are thousands more sat dormant on a memory card. Gathering virtual dust. How terribly sad.

This is an injustice to my son and to my family. And so, I should post no matter how many words I can, or cannot, string together. Because, y'know what..sometimes words just aren't necessary. I'd rather take a silent walk down memory lane, than take none at all.

I haven't be able to do the love I have for my baby justice with words. But hopefully I do an okay enough job of showing him with my actions each day. Sometimes I'm lucky enough to capture one of those moments, and when I do, I'll be sure to do better at sharing them here.

I love you dear boy. Now, more than ever - you completely crazy-cute-ass-tiger-scamp.

xoxo

2012

2012 has passed in the blink of an eye. It's the 31st of December, the year is ending, imminently, and guess what? I'm still way back at the beginning of December. I'm still Christmas shopping, I still need to get the rest of our Christmas decorations out of the loft and I'm definitely still planning this year's gift wrap style....how can it being new year's eve?

I have so much catching up to do, I'm so far behind that mentally I'm still in hospital about to push the greatest being on the planet out from inside my body.

2012 has been a year full of things to process and adjust to, so it makes sense (to me) that my mind should be way back in April still, being that April was the month that my life changed. For ever. Irrevocably. Beautifully. Naturally.

True to form 2012 has been another year where I have procrastinated the days away (to be fair this year is the first year that I have had a pretty good excuse). I have not achieved any of my new year's resolutions from Christmases past. I haven't managed to achieve the minimalist lifestyle I so crave for (with a baby on the way, what the heck was I thinking?) but I have gotten much better at hiding stuff.. nor have I crafted a single thing (shame on me). I have achieved a big fat zero on the resolution front.

Ho hum.

BUT here's what I have achieved in 2012 -

I gave birth (naturally and at record speed, which came as a bit of a surprise to me) to a gorgeous creature. A baby boy. My baby boy.

I finally bagged the job I've always dreamed of; I became a mother. And what's more, I love it. Sounds like an obvious statement but while I always dreamed of having a family, I didn't really have any idea what it would be like. How I would cope, or if I would enjoy submitting my entire life to a child. But submit I have. Totally and completely. Knowingly and willingly. It seems this isn't a parenting style that everyone adopts. And it came as a bit of a surprise to me but when Chuck arrived my entire world perspective changed. It did a big fat upturn and landed up on its head. Suddenly 'my life' subsided and merged with Chuck's. He's the driving force in my life. Everything begins (and ends) with him. 'I' can wait. Or at least, my life has a new focus, a new meaning and a direction that it did not have before. I'm not sad to wave goodbye to the old me. I'm thrilled to say hello to the new me. The one with serious purpose in life and a new found understanding of love and humility (the who wears sweatpants constantly without shame), all thanks to my little boy.

I've had my eyes opened this year. I was blessed with a life full of love before Chuck arrived but now it's gone galactic. The amount of love that MB and I have for this little boy is unreal. It seeps from every pore and we (sickeningly) gush, daily.

He has shown me the true meaning of what it is to be and feel blessed and he has brought me closer to 'god', if only in my heart.

2012 has been a momentous year. We became a family. The little boy we had been waiting for arrived and brightened our every day. We are truly grateful for this and I for one, am super excited to see what 2013 has in store for our little family. I am cherishing every moment I have with this baby boy because 2013 will him him change quicker than I could have ever thought possible, into a little* boy. These moments are precious but I'm giddy to think about the things I'll be reliving come December 31st 2013. The list of 'firsts' will be huge and I can't wait to share!

To my boy - thank you for choosing us. Mama loves you. Always.

And to all of you out there; HAPPY NEW YEAR. May 2013 be all you can ever hope for and more.

xoxo

*A word little often associated with my boy.