I’m sure every parent has this argument with themselves at some stage. Either when your child goes down for an unexpected nap (such a thing does exist!) Or everytime you get an opportunity for some actual me time. This was me recently, I had some proper me time, I’m not talking about 5 minutes to go to the loo, or pop out to do a tantrum free food shop whilst the terror sleeps at night. I’m on about something rarer than a total eclipse. A full weekend without child thanks to a friends child free wedding!
‘Yes! Of course I’ll be there’ was my response initially, wahoo! An irresponsible weekend away, I’m gonna drink champagne and wine and vokda and shots and even have a lie in! Wahoo! Terror can have a whole weekend of Grandma time, excellent! The closer the date got those feeling changed, started drastically having words with myself: I’ll leave a bit later and come home a bit earlier, perhaps I’ll facetime over the weekend. My intentions drastically zig zagging between pre baby me and sensible mummy me.
Eventually I had settled on a plan of action, I’d go and monster could have a day with daddy before 1 night and 1 day with Grandma. It’s the most horrible feeling. That craving of pre baby days, desperately desperate for time with the girls. Knowing all the time that you really aren’t that person any more. Will I have to pretend I’m having fun when I’m not? When I’m just dying to get home and be nagged at by the monster, cleaning up his pee and preventing him from strangling the cat. Or will I love the ‘I’ll have a glass of wine and sit in the sunshine and do nothing all day’ me that I resent being a mummy?
I kind of knew which way I was going to go. But is it the same for all parents out there? Do you get that internal tug of war when you get the opportunity for some space? I sat in a restaurant with the tiniest of measures of wine in a giant glass, constantly distracted from the group conversation by me debating with myself. I want to go and be carefree but I miss the terror so much I think I might combust. Snap out of it, you don’t do it very often; because I don’t want to, I want to spend every waking hour with my little cheeky monster. I should have some time alone, it will do me good! I wonder what he’s up too? Does he miss me? Argh! Shit, wine has gone.
How did my carefree toddler free day go? Bloody quickly. Did I drink myself to pre baby days? Heck no, 2 glasses and I was done, no hangover would mean I could drive to pick up the monster sooner. I caught myself glancing at photos on my phone regularly. Drifting off and wondering what trouble he was getting up to with Grandad. Actually, properly and genuinely missing him way before I hit the 24 hour child free mark. Before I knew it he was back in my arms and wiping his nose in my hair and pinching my flab. Just how I like it. I might moan and complain and dream of monster free time, but when it comes to it I’m not so sure.
*giant big cheesy happy grin*