A rough storm looking up at the stars – This is Motherhood
The past two weeks have been the toughest in a while for more reasons than one. To add to this, if you’d have read on my Friday post, we had a trip to the hospital last week as we experienced a very scary thing in our parenting journey, our little baby boy fell down the entire length of our stairs luckily escaping without a bruise, mark or internal injury. The moments led up to this were as normal as usual, only this time I was rushing about and stupidly forgot to shut the top stair gate. I got little chap and we went into our bedroom as Daddy was getting ready for work and we were having some last minute snuggles. That was until he went out the room to copy daddy getting ready, snuggling his blanket into his face as usual. Ty then came into the room not realising Phoenix had followed him, we then heard the high pitched scream, the massive tumble and a churn hit our stomachs so hard. We both ran as fast as we could, Ty literally jumped over the bannister to try and get to him but he was already at the bottom crying with shock and I followed straight after. The shock then hit me, I curled up into a ball with sheer guilt that I left the gate open, cuddling my baby, checking his head and searching his face and body for marks. Within minutes he was fine, smiling, wiping my tears away and watching as the girls come down the stairs to see what’s woken them up.
Their Grandad then came to look after the girls for a couple of hours while I took him to A&E as advised by the nhs line as even though he didn’t seem phased we wanted him checked over as well. We were seen very quickly at the hospital and they wanted to observed him for a while, gave him a little wrist band which I still have as they wanted to make sure no symptoms started to appear. After a while they agreed he could go home (probably as he was playing happily and running about in the play area making mummy food at the play kitchen and gesturing to the gate that he wanted to go home. They gave me a note sheet that said if he was to experience any of the listed symptoms to return right away or call 999. Luckily no symptoms came out and my little boy is fine and happy as ever. So after that monster of a day the week didn’t really get much better to be honest, I mean no more huge accidents happened, but I did burn my lunch one day, exploded a bowl of porridge into a huge volcano, and stubbed my toe all in one day but at least no ones health was at risk, other than my poor toe.
I’ve felt really under the weather the past few weeks as well, and this never really goes well when you have three happy but rather energetic, thrill seeking children wanting to be learning new things all the time, and wondering where they can go next. This along with all the added pressures that life can throw at you, self critical moments, the times when you don’t feel like you can talk to many as you don’t want to burden them – it can feel quite shirty. Then there’s the mum-guilt, man I am one hell of a mum guilt sufferer. I wanted to make the entire summer holidays fun for my little a and we have had so much fun, just this week, well two weeks or so have been rather stressful at times, and Mr T has been working really late each day too well into the late evening which meant him missing out on dinner time and bed times leaving the little a asking why and me explaining. I’ve had moments when I’ve not felt as patient as I could be, moments where I’ve sobbed, moments when I wonder what they think of my job as their mummy, yet I’ve also had those wonderful moments of snuggling with them, listening to their magical conversations and feeling their arms wrap around me. The smell of my babies hair as he tucked his head under my chin for a big squeeze, my little girls telling me they love me so. All these little things was away the negative and make me remember why I’m here, who I am to them and that with the tough weeks come the magnificent weeks, those moments spent with my special people.