Hmm, I've been blogging for a while, but unlike those that do it every day and build up a huge following, I seem to do it less and less and it's probably only my sister reading this now. But we had words, not me and my sister, me and the blog. We decided it was time to stay focused and put some effort in. And not just in the blog, in everything. Having a child totally changes your life, obviously, point understood, but I'm wondering if it has totally stripped me of my ability to communicate and enjoy life. Where did that fun-loving care-free happy-go-lucky me go? I think I'm doing OK generally, most of the time, but it's nothing to write home (or here) about. I'm struggling with fulfilling my husband's needs, and he is struggling with our situation right now, yet I think we will come out of the woods soon enough and realise that it wasn't all that bad, these things happen, you get over it and work it out somehow. Communication is key and we haven't changed the locks yet.
The transition from being a woman to a mother is quite an incredible thing. The love you feel as a woman for your man is something strong, uniting, passionate, exciting. Put a baby in the mix and those feelings are still there, but how compelling is that protective bond? That little precious being that relies solely on you for everything takes over, your heart and soul would move heaven and earth to protect and guide him. It's a totally different way of life. People you used to care passionately about seem to disappear into the ether. Not forgotten forever, just no longer in your 'now'.
That bloody cockerel!!! Why does it always go mental at this sort of time, just as the little one is sleeping, or at least trying to! Perhaps this is why the blog has been neglected, and the husband! I just don't get time to sit down and do anything without some sort of interruption! I'm in the middle of nowhere, idyllic and peaceful, baby sleeping, time to do something for me then that bloody shaggy cockerel starts. Have you ever seen a cockerel getting frisky with the hens? Poor loves, what did they do to him? He arrogantly struts around, cock-a-doodle-dooing, shaking his scrawny arse in some poor hen's face, I've a good mind to... (calm down Flora) ...finish my tea, comfort the baby, think about preparing dinner, hang the washing out, wash my hair, tidy up, do some filing, make some biscuits, wrap the birthday present for my niece... That's right, run around like a blue-arsed fly for a few more hours until Jam's home then put the baby to bed and have some quality time with hubby: without falling asleep!
A tea break is never long enough these days.