Mum-ble. I’m a mum. I don’t think I ever noticed mumble has ‘mum’ in it until I was one.
I’ve been away a little while. Not unusual for me and this blog, so you may not have given it much thought. I have been here though, really. I have been writing things. I’ve just not been publishing them for my small bit of the world to see. I guess, really, I’ve been writing a diary, but that seems very teenagery and self involved, so I’ve been telling myself I’m writing blog posts.
See, I’ve not been all that happy of late. Winter takes a lot of the blame, or at least, I’m letting it. We are indoors and we are bored. Really though, we are bored because I am lonely. I’ve just been a bit scared to admit it. That’s why those posts stay unpublished. I’m a bit scared.
I want to say that I love my life, but I don’t. I am really very fond of my life. I am very lucky in many ways. I have a wonderful, beautiful, amazing daughter who is (mostly) an absolute pleasure to be around. I have lovely husband who works very hard to take care of us so that I can stay at home full time and spend his money. Ha, I joke. I have a nice home, our own home, that I get to bash nails into the walls of wherever I like, and paint whatever colour I want. And yet, I am lonely.
This is not the life I was lead to believe I should be having. I am a ‘stay at home mum’ – or a SAHM, if you will. My life is supposed to be all playdates and tea and cake and cath kidston and coffee shops. Trips to the park with children that play together nicely while us mums sit on park benches and chat about this weeks meal plans and the best type of washing powder. Baking fresh bed every day, after waking up early and having a cheery family breakfast before waving the husband off to work. Washing always done and ironing always ironed. Floors always hoovered and fresh flowers in vases.
… I don’t know where the hell this has come from. It’s clear I was very badly mis-sold by someone. Who do I contact to re-claim? Do they do no win, no fee?
In reality, I spend days socialising with no one but my husband and my two year old. Our top outing is walking to the local co-op for a sneaky chocolate bar and going to feed the ducks at the park. It’s not even a good park. A good park within walking distance would go a long way towards making this situation bearable. We have an excellent newly installed ‘outdoor gym’.. great if you’re a bored teenager.. not so great if you’re two and you’re tiny. She gets a swing and some ducks, and that’s her lot. Perhaps once a week I go and visit my one mum friend, and the kid gets to play with her best bud, and we put the world to rights. All is good. Then I go home.
Before anyone tells me I need to get out more and “do more things”, let me tell you it’s not that simple. We have tried a lot of play group type things, and we go to a few different sessions (you know, when we aren’t all ill or it’s not snowing or holidays or Christmas..) but they are for the kid. She loves them, and she has fun, and I have fun with her. I talk to the other mums and they talk back and then we all go home. Yes, I suppose I have been out and socialised, but it felt awfully lonely to me. In fact, it’s possibly the time I feel loneliest - while stood in a room full of other mothers and children, where the kids all play as if they haven’t just met three minutes ago, and the mums all make light conversation, and it never goes any deeper than that. “How old is your little one?” “Oh she has the loveliest hair!” “She’s very confident” and move on. On to the next owner of the child that their child is playing next to. Nice to have been in a room with you, maybe we’ll be in a room again next week.
.. when did it get so damn hard to make friends?
The ladies in my computer are my savours. The twitter mums and the facebook mums, always talking, always listening. Like Charlotte, who encouraged me to start posting posts again, or Alice who inspired me to try and sort my shit out a little. I don’t know what stay at home mums did before the internet made it easy to still feel connected to something despite being alone at home with children to raise. Well, they probably went out and made friends and had playdates and tea and cake in coffee shops surrounded by cath kidston and fresh flowers, talking about washing powder. Right? Or keeping busy with the washing and ironing and hoovering and cooking and cleaning. Right? Or perhaps they were just lonely, and ate a lot of cake.
Back soon with photos of a toddler in the snow. I know that’s what you were really hoping for here.