Posts Tagged "out of my depth"
So…emm… what am I supposed to be doing again?
It’s confession time here at SIFTW. Because I have a guilty secret to share…
I am a rubbish stay-at-home-mum.
This is not me saying that I’m a dreadful mother or anything (well, not VERY dreadful), it’s just that I don’t think this whole SAHM thing particularly suits me. Turns out I’m really not very good at it.
I was ok when Kai was tiny – being a mum then was mostly about keeping him alive and preventing him from drowning in the accumulated pile of his own vomit and poo. Simples. You put milk and food in one end, you clean up the other end, you sing lots of silly songs and pull funny faces and spend long hours just cuddling and cooing gobbledegook at each other. It was exhausting, but there was only a limited amount of potential for screwing up. It was kinda dull but it was a simpler, less complicated time.
These days? Man alive, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.
Because these days I have a little person to look after. Who toddles and climbs and chatters earnestly and nonsensically during every waking moment. Who loves Matchbox cars and Thomas the Tank Engine (possibly more than he loves me), and does NOT like broccoli or soup or being asked to do something he doesn’t want to do.
This is a little person that copies, that is learning and changing at a rate of knots, and that has potential bursting out of orifice.
It is exciting and interesting and Kai seems to get more and more fricking adorable by the hour. But it scares the crap out of me.
Suddenly the potential for screwing up now seems lots, lots bigger. I’m not entirely sure what I’m supposed to DO with this little fierce ball of independent motion.
Am I supposed to be teaching him stuff??
Because here’s the other half of the confession and reason I’m a rubbish SAHM…
I’m not very good at playing.
I’m VERY good a cuddling, and tipping upside down, and playing hide-and-seek, and making Kai laugh until he cries and doing stories with silly voices, and helping him to get covered in food, and romping about in the sunshine, and eating cake together.
I am RUBBISH at structured play.
And the worst thing?
It bores me. Dreadfully.
I thought I would be great at playing. That I would have infinite energy AND WILLINGNESS to invest in making up exciting and educational games for Kai to partake in. But after 10 minutes of block building and car racing and colouring in I’m getting antsy. My lack of enthusiasm after a while must show as Kai usually quickly shuns me and my attention in favour of independent play, embarking on his complicated games of hiding cars under the sofa or trying to post things through the letter box. And I, relived, skulk off back to whatever project I have waiting for me and that I am currently obsessing over.
I do DO stuff with him. We go to at least one playgroup a week, meet up with friends, take lots of walks and trips to the park. We go to the Library (toy and regular) and the sensory room, and sometimes swimming if I can summon up the energy.
But at home? At home I suck.
And it worries me. Should I be doing more? Kai doesn’t know his colours and seems to think all animals go “mooo” or “woof” regardless of what they are. He gets confused between his knees and ears (although gets ‘willy’ right every time – go figure). He barely says any proper words at all.
I worry that that his education now in this kind of thing is down to me and that I am failing him. I feel like I should be taking more responsibility for his learning. I wonder whether he’d be better off at nursery but then hate the thought of it as I would miss him dreadfully.
Mostly I worry that I should WANT to do more ‘stuff’ with him, that I should be motivated and inspired to fill his days with learning and creativity and variation. That I should go to bed full of plans for what ‘enrichment activities’ I might do with Kai tomorrow and NOT my next writing project. That this SHOULD be enough for me.
The fact that it isn’t worries me most of all.
It is official. I am a SHIT stay-at-home-mum.
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Amendment:
I have loved the comments on this post. Especially as they come from some of the mum’s I have THE most respect for. You tell me that I’m doing fine and I believe you. Thank you.
So I take it back. I am not shit. Because turns out I am just like you and I think you are AWESOME. So I guess that makes me? Well, not shit anyway.
Thanks. Thanks again. And thanks some more.
Is it stupid that I genuinely feel a huge deal better? Cause I really, really do.
x
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