Sometimes it feels like no matter what, someone is always unhappy. Whether it’s me, one of the kids, my husband, work, friends etc. it’s just not possible to strive for everyone to be happy, for everyone to get along, or even just for myself to feel happy, all of the time. Is there any way to create balance in each day? Or in one’s life in its entirety?
There have been moments where I think I’ve found it. I’ve just grasped the elusive ‘balance’ with the tips of my fingers. I’m doing great work. I’ve picked up a few extra hours so that I can get on top of things or get a bit more traction at least, in the workplace. Then, the Mum Guilt creeps up on me. Every time I think that I’m rid of her, there she is poking her ugly schronk-nose (I was sure this was a word – pronounced – sk – rong – ka) out from around the corner like…
“Oh no, you don’t dearie” she says in her shaky voice. (Imagine an old witch from a fairy tale but she takes the shape of an alligator snapping turtle).
“Oh, fuck off, Mum Guilt! No one asked for your opinion” my mind retorts.
Anytime I feel like I’m kicking goals in one area of my life, I’m simultaneously failing in another. If I’m doing great at work, then I’m failing at parenting. Mum Guilt pipes up…
“The kids are missing you. You haven’t been spending much quality time with them lately” she hisses in my ear.
When I was at home, she was just as loud, but in different ways…
“What a failure! Imagine spending all of those years studying and working just to be a stay-at-home mum” I’d overhear her say, condescendingly, to her friends ‘Fear’ and ‘Doubt’.
So I’d strive every day, to be doing something to contribute, something tangible, to justify my existence, to feel like I’d achieved, something, anything (other than the mighty task of taking care of the needs of a child, or children, all day long, day in, day out). I’d be doing the housework, helping with renovations, studying something that interests me, playing with the kids, looking after the animals, and taking the dogs for a walk. All of the above on the good days, or none of the above on other days.
I’m taking a holiday from work, from home life, a getaway from the day-to-day and some peace and serenity to celebrate 10 years of marriage with my husband. We’re very excited to get away to the cool, calm surroundings of the Bunya Mountains. A cabin in the woods. Just the two of us. Do you know who’s not coming….?
Fucken Mum Guilt. She thinks it’s indulgent.
“How could you do such a thing? Leaving your kids? Abandoning them! A good mum wouldn’t do that! A loving mum wouldn’t dream of leaving her kids!” she snarks.
Fear chimes in “What if something terrible happens to them while you’re away? Or what if something happens to you, or both of you!? They’ll be left to fend for themselves in this cruel world!”
Doubt agrees “Maybe it would be best to cancel, stay at home for them?”
I try not to listen to these fuckers anymore.
“Could you kindly fuck off? The lot of you! I’m taking the weekend away with my husband to celebrate our wedding anniversary. None of you are invited!”
I’m done with their bullshit for now. They’re always there for me, in my mind. I know they’re only trying to help. At some point they might have helped, when I was younger, when I needed the extra safety and security, but I’m a grown woman now. I can make my own decisions.
I’m finding balance. Somewhat. It is constantly in flux. It ebbs and flows. There are times of rapid movement, growth, rushing and flowing. Getting shit done. Pushing forward. Then, there are times of calm and rest. Sacred pause. Times when there is a little peace and quiet within the chaos. I wish I could give a step-by-step, on how to find this calm. But it’s ever-changing and it’s personal. I couldn’t say what works for me, let alone anyone else. One thing I know for sure though.
Fuck off with the Mum Guilt, and give Fear and Doubt the flick too.
To all the Mums out there. You’re doing great. You’re doing your best. That’s all you can ever do.