I like Disney Princesses. Little Miss is very fond of them, if anything for the way the dresses twirl when she spins. We’re all raised on Disney with Snow White, Belle, Aurora and Cinderella being staples in most of our homes. The stories are adventures. The songs are beautiful and melodic and the beauty is profound. It’s not our world though is it?
If you were watching my Insta Stories this weekend you’ll know we were at Dublin Comic Con despite the insanely bitter cold. Dublin Comic Con started back in 2013 and Little Miss was bundled up in my belly when we went to that very first convention. It was a start up convention with a few big names wrangled for that very first event. Since then it has sky rocketed to being Irelands best comic convention and is referred to as Irelands largest Family and Pop Culture Event. We have been going almost every year. Last year we started bringing Little Miss with us and this year she was counting the days down to the Spring Edition. Here’s how we got on.
The phrase “having it all” did not necessarily begin as being strictly implied for the professional mother but somehow, over the years, we have found our way here. Career driven women who inevitably question the balance of life with work and motherhood. Making choices as though it’s a necessity to choose. Or attempting to balance the load of success in every aspect of our lives because we are the great acrobats of modern society. Because being successful is how we are supposed to measure these things, right?
We question those choices. And argue about why we can’t have it all. We debate the very idea of what it means and why we want it, searching under rocks and digging on every X. Feeling the pressure of guilt, self-doubt and judgement on every scale as it balances out of our favour. We battle an ever, omnipresent idea of being bigger, better and more than we are. As though striving to reach goals, break through glass ceilings and chase our dreams becomes a questionable commodity as motherhood calls. Almost as though we search in vain.
It’s been hanging around a few weeks lately which is why, a few days ago, I wrote the post Anxiety: The Flamingo Does Not Define Me. I’ve been trying to climb out of a rut that has seen me stuck for three weeks or so. I have to be honest, because that’s who I am and what I do. I consider myself a self care idiot. I should know better by now. I should know how to look after my physical needs and the needs of my ever spinning mind. I really should but I’m feeling the pinch of being overwhelmed lately and it has swallowed up any opportunity I’ve had to care for myself. Overhelmed with balancing working from home and being the Momma Bear I want to be, but feeling as though I’m failing in the process because I want to hide in the kitchen. Overwhelmed with my relationships with friends, family and Papa Bear. Even overwhelmed with how the furniture is positioned and how Un-Marie Kondo’d the house is.
Something struck me the last few days. Struck me hard, like a lash of a whip or one of those instantaneous paper cuts right on the knuckle. Or a slice from tin foil which oddly happened to me last week. I’ve been overly tired – emotionally, physically and mentally the past while. I’ve been crawling through the sludge grabbing for a rope to pull me up and out. It’s been a case of being hit hard by “the overwhelm”. You know those days when everything seems to need to be done two or three times before you can move on to the next thing. And the next thing and the next thing. I’ve had friends and family worry about me this week. And I can see in the back of their eyes, a little dancing Flamingo.
Lets jump on the Marie Kondo bandwagon shall we? Now I know most of you heard of her before the Netflix series took centre stage, but I, my friends, had not. Despite her sailing into our lives in 2014 with her book detailing the KonMari method of de-cluttering, in other words retaining only what “sparks joy”, my order conscious self missed her inspirational overhaul of life. I do love a good reshuffle and I appreciate the motherload of organisation but I must admit, her method of living and loving is not as easy as it looks.
I’m living in fear of snow this week. Last years snow drifts, while beautiful and temporarily fun to play in before the ice cold creeps into your bones, has left me willing and wishing the weather man will say we’ve escaped with a sprinkling of the white stuff. When I was five, I longed for snow. At 35, not so much. Indoors I stay. Indoors I do my best to keep warm. But I’m also living in fear of the oil running out before I can top up the tank. Which got me thinking about how the cold seeps into our house on days like these. Practical as ever, I have a few tips for keeping the house warm without leaving the heat on all day.
Sleep. Oh sleep, you wickedly wonderful, but often never had, state of being. I need my sleep. I needed sleep before kids. I need my sleep after kids. We all know how that story goes. Sleep becomes a distant memory and we challenge ourselves to find new ways to keep going until bedtime. Anything to make it to the finishing line and lay horizontal for a few minutes. Theres a trick to getting good sleep as a parent. Get help! With Little Beans sleeping pattern going from bad to worse I needed help!
I’d absolutely love it if this was some inspirational post about being the sickest and coolest and most epic Momma Bear – which I realise makes me sound so incredibly uncool – but it’s all about when Momma Bear is sick and boy do I know what that’s like.
It’s January. We’re all a little fed up. But we’re also jumping pretty damn hard and fast on the rejuvenating band wagon. One thing I’ve learned over this winter, is how self-care is vital for Momma and Papa Bear. Over January I plan on posting a few blogs about putting yourself first. We all know, if Momma Bear is weary, the house gets weary.