The dark days are over

The dark days, are gone. Thanks Florence. It was Florence right?

Anyway, I actually had this blog written in my head a week or so ago but never got around putting pen to paper so to speak since Chris has been working night shifts and I’ve been numero uno parento, master of the children, cooking and house cleaning.

I should pre text this article by stating very clearly – I do not have PND, anxiety, depression or any other mental illness, and I am HUGELY thankful that my brain has not betrayed like so many before, now and after me.

In saying that, I do have an 18 month old and a 12 week old – so a 15 month gap between 2 children. Of course, parenting was never meant to be easy, but boy can it get crazy sometimes. I’m a control freak, admittedly, so I don’t usually mind bearing the brunt of the child caring, cooking and general ‘house-ly’ duties. Chris certainly contributes, but also works his butt off full time to make sure that I can  stay home with the kids.


The last couple of weeks, with Hunter in and out of hospital twice from 3 weeks old for bronchiolitis, and having an incredibly energetic, strong willed, loud and determined older babe, theres been a built up happening – and it burst. It burst in a colourful display of words and tears, of an epic meltdown variety. Its hard to explain, but when you find you spend most of your time inside with two small children, both who essentially fully rely on you for everything as they’re so young, it can all just get too overwhelming. Chris doesn’t, or I should say didn’t, understand just how hard everything was getting for me. I also went into hospital myself in the meantime, with what I thought was postpartum haemorrhaging (turned out it was just my awful period figuring itself out, even though I’m exclusively breastfeeding – go figure), and it just so happened to be on the weekend that Chris went away camping. And thats a thing it itself isn’t it? It takes nothing, generally, for the dad to be able to go about his life as normal, whereas some days we eat homemade pancakes for our 2 meals during the day while he’s at work because getting both kids into the pram or car and walking the full 200m to the supermarket is just too much.

This blog doesn’t have half the amount of wording I had imagined for it 2 weeks ago – because Chris has figured out that I need him around to help me more, even if its just to come home and take one of the kids off my actual body (where they seem to live), so I can relax my poor, knotted shoulders and have a glass of semi uninterrupted wine while he baths them. Because I’m still sitting there, with one of my clasps from my nursing bras off, spew on my shoulder, standard trackie attire and I’m just physically and mentally drained. I feel guilty for giving Hunter more attention because he feeds often, or doesn’t want to be put down – I feel guilty for ignoring him to play with Evie to the point where I noticed his head is a little flat on the back from laying down so much.

It’s an evil balance, parenting. Chris just finished a week of nightshifts today. Yesterday I went and took myself for a massage, and bought myself a new outfit (from the Dannii Minogue Petite range SIZE EIGHT JEANS THANK YOU VERY MUCH THATS WHAT BREASTFEEDING AND CHASING KIDS DOES TO YOU!).


OBVIOUSLY, obviously every morsel is worth it. God, Hunter has the worlds best ever smile I’ve ever seen on a human, and Evie is probably the funniest kid I’ve ever had the chance to meet. But its not funny when she digs her fingers into her brothers head, and its not funny when he screams every time I put him down, and its not funny when she screams for a dummy all day because Hunter is allowed one. And its really not fun having to be the constant eyes, ears and brain for 3 people – especially when your partner in crime comes home and sighs if he has to change a nappy (rare, but its happened, ya bastard), or takes the first shower on the night, or eats the last piece of chocolate (those are NOT rare, be more considerate, YA BASTARD!)(Kidding, love you).

Its hard being parents –  its hard for him because he has no idea of their routines, or how much Evie should eat, or when she should be in bed, or just that she wants a cuddle. And its hard for me to not get frustrated when he doesn’t go into super dad mode, when he’s been working around the clock so we can live an amazing life. I felt more down that i ever had a few weeks ago. Not in a ‘I want to harm anybody’ kind of way, but in a very ‘the world is pretty beige’ right now. Does that make sense? I think things are looking up – Get Wines Direct called me on Thursday and offered me a super deal and I’m having 24 bottles of red and white delivered today – so theres always that, right? Oh, and the kids just synced their lunchtime naps, Chris is home for the whole day AND NIGHT, and I’m having a beer while working on my bizz-nisssss.

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