Some Days Are Hard

I’ve kept a very low profile this week in terms of social media. I needed to take a step back, recharge, and evaluate where I’m at. We’re heading towards the end of the year now, and for me this has been a wild one. There’s a lot I could talk about but sometimes I prefer to keep mulling it over for a while longer.

This week was harder than most. Honestly, the month of November has been a challenge. What’s with all the sick bugs, and colds, and viruses?! I swear I’m on a repeated sickness cycle. Nobody likes to be unwell. It’s rubbish. Add in some exhaustion and it’s a glorious recipe for a depressive episode.

I’ve said it a lot recently but, I’m really fed up of being mentally ill. I am so done with it. Frustration is mounting with each passing day – though I now have a new medical team who are exceptionally positive. I’m at the limbo stage of the process where I’ve made a load of progress but still can’t see the finish line.

Thoughts have whirled around in my head for the last few days as I’ve considered this journey. My illness has impacted on nearly every person in my life. When we talk about mental health battles, it can be so easy to forget that the fight doesn’t exist solely in one person’s mind: the destruction reaches out to every part of the social landscape. Relationships are hard, add a baby and it’s harder, add some mental illness and it’s even harder.

This time last year I was suicidal. I was self harming. Every day was a blanket of numb, and sadness, and frustration. I was literally praying to gods I don’t believe in that I would see my son’s first Christmas, and resigning myself to never seeing his first birthday. When I consider that now, it’s terrifying.

Thankfully my medical team have been exceptional. I have good days now: despite still having bad periods. My kid might be a bit tantruming rogue but I’m enjoying him far more now than I did before. I’m not worrying over every decision, and I’m trying not to be a helicopter parent so our son can spread his wings a little. Everything is still a work in progress. I’ve accepted that I’m not a perfect parent (most of the time) because there’s no such thing as perfect. My kid laughs, and he draws, and he runs, and he sings, and he gives me kisses and says night night at the end of the day – that’s pretty perfect.

Tall, Talking Toddler

I’ve mentioned it a few times, but we’re firmly out of the baby stage and into the toddler years. Gabe is now seventeen months old (going on seventeen years). His character is blossoming and it’s an amazing experience to watch a person’s personality take form. We’re blessed to have a kid who surprises us each day, but the challenges keep on coming.

For one, my kid is huge. That might be an exaggeration, but he’s definitely tall. He was measured last week and comes in at the 98th percentile – so if one was the shortest kid his age, and one hundred was the tallest, he’s the ninety-eighth. We’ve knows this for a while and, let’s face it, he was a fairly massive newborn. A few months ago at soft play, he played with a child a few months older and another child who was literally a day older than him. He towered over both. So much so, that both the other mums thought he was considerably older than their own children.

While some parents would be thrilled their kid is growing so well (and we generally are!) it comes with its own issues. Because our toddler is bigger than the average bear, there is a constant assumption that he is older too. People don’t realise that he’s not even a year and a half old yet, and that he can’t do all the same things as a three year old can do.

Recently the health visitor did his assessment and we had a proud parent moment when we found out he is exceeding both the 18 month milestones and the 2 year milestones. In part, we think this is due to how vast his vocabulary is. He only needs to hear a word repeated two or three times before he’s trying to use it for himself. We’ve learned the hard way that swearing is no longer something that can be done within a two mile radius. He’s also got an attitude to rival some teenagers.

Ultimately, things are going well on the parenting front. We’re run off our feet trying to keep up, and every day is a learning curve. But it occurred to us over the last couple of weeks that at some point we said goodbye to the baby stage without ever realising it. We packed up the tiny baby toys, and the piles of clothes that will never fit him again. The next stage is so exciting but it’s bitter sweet to say the least.

Becoming A Parent

The one phrase I hate the most is ‘parenting will just come naturally’. For some it does, for some it doesn’t. Either way every parent is learning on the job. You could have planned every moment, envisioned every scenario, and read every book, but no amount of Supernanny episodes will prepare you for the reality of being solely responsible for the development of a new human.

There’s an element of parenting shaming attached to the ‘it comes naturally’ tribe as though you’re somehow biologically flawed if you struggle to raise your kid. Every parent who has had their children before you will automatically be more qualified, as will the people with two or three or four or more. No family is the same. No child is the same. Families and parenting skills are uniquely forged between the personalities of everyone involved in the experience. Sometimes, it’s a struggle.

Sometimes personalities clash. Mr Robinson and I are both introverts but our son appears to be extroverted. It’s a challenge! I was the kid that read the rules of the play park before I stepped foot inside, but my kid is likely to run right in without a second thought (and probably break numerous rules while he’s at it). We’re different, and so parenting for us means negotiating all the things we are as people, but also all the things we’re NOT.

Some days are frustrating. I’m slowly coming to the realisation that it’s ok for some days to be frustrating and it’s ok to have days where I don’t get everything right. There is only so many times a human being can tell a person not to pour their juice on the floor before you lose the plot and hide the juice cup.

Regardless, I’m a more experienced parent than I was yesterday and tomorrow I’ll be even further up that ladder. As I’ve said before, this is my first time being a parent to my one year old. Every stage is new for both of us. There’s no instruction manual.

Toddler

Last week I talked a bit about the transition from baby to toddler. When we had our son, we were told the newborn stage would be the hardest. It was difficult at times. But, honestly? This is the biggest challenge I’ve ever faced as a person – not just as a parent.

 

The thing about parenting is that failure isn’t much of an option. You mostly have to succeed each day because the development of another human being is at stake. That’s a serious responsibility. Sometimes trying your best isn’t good enough: your best HAS to be better.

 

When our kid was a newborn it was relatively easy to keep him safe. He couldn’t move around all that much. Now, as a toddler, he risks his life on an hourly basis and I live in constant peril of something happening to him. I have multiple heart attacks a day. Seriously, my stomach drops out of my body on multiple occasions over the course of a normal day of parenting. Our toddler doesn’t just walk now: he climbs, he jumps, he throws himself backwards like a dodgy rendition of a trust exercise, and he tries to poke half a banana down his throat resulting in a choking fit.

 

There are times when it feels like I’m trying to keep a drunk little person alive. I literally can’t take my eyes off him for a second. Not even to go to the toilet. And he doesn’t appreciate my efforts in the slightest! Toddler tantrums are a serious business…

 

I was prepared for tantrums. I knew they were coming. In fact, I fully anticipated worse than normal tantrums because our kid has had a temper issue since he was born. This still didn’t prepare me for the moments when he would start headbutting the floor out of pure rage.

 

Trying to parent now is harder than ever. So many times have I questioned whether I have enough patience as a person to get through the day. Most of the time I manage to dig deep but sometimes I send up the white flag (usually in the form of grandparents). There are so many things about this stage in development that are a challenge but it’s not all bleak. My kid now runs up to give me a cuddle every now and then – he also claps after my performance of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star because he thinks I’m awesome. That’s worth the struggle.

It Went Too Quickly!

I swear my child was a newborn a few weeks ago. Except he wasn’t. He’s fourteen months old now and I don’t know how that happened. He now comes under the term ‘toddler’ instead of just ‘baby’.

 

When I was pregnant – and especially in the first couple of weeks of being a new parent – people told us to ‘cherish every moment’ and warned us ‘it goes so fast’. They were right but I still stick by the thought that you don’t have to linger over every moment. Some moments are hellish. Yes, there are cute cuddles and first smiles and milestones but sometimes there are nappy explosions, tantrums and sleep deprivation.

 

Recently I can’t shake the feeling that I missed a chunk of his life already. I look back at pictures of him and find it hard to believe he used to look and act differently. Where there once was a tiny bundle (ok, he was never tiny but it’s all relative…) there is now a thriving individual. He has a blossoming personality, a sense of independence, and he has a lot less time for Mummy’s love of cuddles.

 

The newborn stage is gone. That chapter is closed. As parents we succeeded in getting through those initial stages of panic when we had no clue how we were going to keep a completely helpless human alive for longer than a day or two. To be honest, we still don’t know what we’re doing, but we’re learning. Going into the toddler stage is a new challenge and we’re going to need to learn a whole new bunch of skills. But he’ll still be my baby – I now know that feeling of looking at a person and being pulled back to a different time and place when our first meeting was a game changer.

Nap Time

Want to know what the most underrated time is in a parent’s day? It’s the moment where quiet and bliss fills the home. Nap time. It’s glorious.

Hours go past in a sleep deprived haze after being unceremoniously dragged out of bed at some unholy time of the morning. Cups of tea can help but only if you are lucky enough to get it before it goes cold. Until then, it’s like a morning in Jurassic Park.

I swear my neighbours must think the only words in my vocabulary are ‘no’, ‘don’t touch’, and ‘oh for the love of God’. Intelligence is drained from the adult mind by PJ Masks and Doc Mcstuffins. The only things my kid wants to play with are the things that could kill him, maim him and/or cause serious damage to our home.

Then this beautiful thing happens and he makes HIMSELF tired. We’ll overlook how tired Mummy is at the same time because that’s basically a given. She’s drowsy just from watching him! Now our baby is so active that he literally exhausts himself and passes out on the carpet if he’s not caught quick enough.

Nap time is like a gift from the parenting Gods. Genuinely I thought I wouldn’t appreciate naps fully until I reached my twilight years but this is not the case – naps are best appreciated during the parenting years when sleep is worth more than class A drugs. How people get through the day without a nap is now beyond me. Seriously, if you have time for a nap, go get one.