On becoming a parent and maintaining some semblance of myself

Look at this brittle husk of wood. This time ravaged, sun bleached, paint peeling, grip tape damaged, poor aged plank of wood.



Like many other folk, I had a life before children. I used to do all sorts of stuff, sometimes really fun stuff. This ‘fun’ stuff is now logged as surplus to requirement most of the time. If I can fit it in around answering ten billion questions about frog reproduction, or dishes, vacuuming, work, washing, washing, WASHING, then kudos for me. If, said ‘fun’ is had, I never really have it guilt free, without wondering if I put the recycling out, or if the school bags are packed. 

(In case you didn’t notice the full extent of its degradation, here it is again.



Heartbreaking isn’t it. Look at the rust!

I suspect I am coming across as sounding a little whiney. I don’t mean for this. I utterly adore my children, they are two wonderful and perfect creatures, and I am constantly surprised and humbled by them. 

Aside from this, I do crave my old self sometimes. The self that could just wander out of the house with a good friend and a surfboard and not return for two days. Or the self that could sit and think uninterrupted for half an hour, and then go on to read an entire chapter in a book.

Ahh well, we humans would be an entirely different creature with out change and evolution. Whether we would be better or worse who could say. All I can say right now, is that I am ready to reintroduce my past self to my present. Try be a little more proactive, and achievey – (not a word, but again, for the sake of the context.) Ready for a bit more interactivity and action. (Although, more than likely, I will regress and become even more of a hermit, lets hope not though…)





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