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Who's running my life
You'd think that by this stage of my life (I am in the 39-55 age bracket now) that I would have full control of my time frames, and be able to allocate what I want to do and when...and then there were kids. The chaos and erratic behaviour that comes with kids is not something that I could have ever been prepared for. I have been in the thick of it now for a good 12 and half years, and I am still amazed how a week can disappear with not a single scheduled thing being done, and a billion other things being done.
This is what I opted in for when I ticked the virtual box of "Stay At Home Mum", or "Pick Up The Pieces and Stay In Tune With Everything That Comes My Way", yet I am still amazed that I am surrounded by so many unfinished projects, things that I begin, but have to put down, lose my train of thought as someone bursts in the door with an urgent need, the phone from school with an urgent request "Can you pop up please?", a request from someone to pick something up or fix something - before they come home from school - please...
It is a choice I made, and I would have it no other way, I love being this connected to my family, but I can tell you now, it is chaotic. If you are about to embark on it, just understand what you are about to head into. This is not a place of full control. This is a place of negotiation, just in time management, thinking on your feet, prioritisation, and putting out spot fires, and sometimes all at once. All of this is expected to be done with a raging smile on your face as well.
In reality, it comes and it goes, as I am heading into the next phase - the teenage years - I am beginning to learn to let go. This is a major thing. After running the ship for so long and being able to pull the chaps into line with a really loud whistle, "come on guys", or "OIY" I am having to look towards my hubby who seems to have been at work for the last 12.5 years (except for when we spent a year together travelling) for advice. Oddly enough, he seems to know how to manage the next bit. It seems to be that all the books, psychologists etc seem to know what they were talking about, and he didn't read a single word of it. He just puts his hand up to me and says, "Wait. Just leave him." It works, even though it doesn't feel right to me. He uses less words than I do. Somehow he gets to be hero in this next phase, which might be good, because I think they are getting much too strong and big for me. I might get to spend a little more time, hopefully, on the things I want to do. I also still get to take them to all of their health appointments and sporting activities. That seems to still be my role, Mum's job, but I am learning not to take on the emotional crap that they chuck at me, and enjoying seeing the great individuals that they have turned into.