I really want to blog. But I'm finding it really hard to get time to write, in-between looking after the kids, house and doing to boring,but very necessary bookwork! My other problem is I'm a little dyslexic. So I have to write and then leave my posts for a while before re-reading them. Just to make sure I don't leave any silly brain induced mistakes. This little issue can be very amusing (I've accidently written some very funny things in the past) but to be honest I don't want to embarrass myself so early on in my blogging journey!
Anyways the re-invention of the women formerly known as MUMMY is going well. I'm loving being creative at the moment. Having finished the curtains I made a tote bag last night, out of the left over curtain material, a no longer needed cot sheet and a rough pattern I found on the internet! I'm pretty happy with the results. But now I'm having to fight off the big pink to be allowed to use it!! (Secretly I'm happy she likes it.)
I've thought a lot about why I dived in so deeply and set my standard so high for myself. In an attempt not to bore you with details let's just say I was brought up to believe serving other was the most admirable thing you could do. And I've chosen to put my energy into serving my children. That along with the fact that I also grew up think I was second best. Due to various abstract blahh blahh reason my internal voice has told me from childhood that other people are more significant and important them me (oh Woe is me).
I actually had this little 'flash back' thingy yesterday while I was driving home from shopping. I passed a dance school and starting thinking about the big pink starting dancing lesson this year. This lead me back through a tangled maze of thoughts which landed at my own dance concert when I was about seven. We were snow princesses with what I thought were the most beautiful soft fluffy pale blue ear muffs. They felt so good to me, being the tactile touchy type, I can remember sitting just feeling them while the other kids were playing. Anyhoo, one got lost before they were sewn on and of cause my mum said I would be the one to have the broken one. I can still remember the pain and disappointment my little childlike heart felt. They were the most beautiful thing I'd seen or touched and everyone else could have one - but not me. Mum got scratchy cotton balls and put some blue dye on them and that was my princess ear muffs for the concert. (Again woe is me.) But probably the saddest thing is that deep inside, despite the disappointment, I wasn't really surprised because I already seemed to believe that my role was to be second best. Something I appear to have brought into my mummy role.
Thinking about this little incident brought tears to my eye. A small window to the pain of a little girl who grew up to be Mummy. Funny how we parent out of our own needs. I try so hard to make sure my girls never feel that sense of heartache, but how far out of balance have I swung in the other direction by trying to give them every part of myself?