It all started with a banana in my handbag. A squishy, “ready for banana bread” kinda banana. Packed as an emergency snack and then forgotten. To add insult to injury, I also found two stinky socks, deep in the recesses of said handbag. This all led to a mini mum meltdown. I felt like throwing myself on the floor, screaming. Was even my handbag not mine anymore? Was there anything left that I hadn’t given up, sacrificed or left on the back burner just because I decided to have children?
There is something really precious and sweet, lost on our way from childhood to adulthood, isn’t there?
Something big, invisible, beautiful and powerful, something along the lines of innocence and boldness and joy.
Maybe it’s the reason we think of childhood as such a magical time, the reason we look at children with envy, and melancholy and tears in our eyes.
And I wonder… I wonder how we get a glimpse of this fleeting gold in our souls again.
Summer is here. Which means the birds are singing, the weather is warm, and kids no longer *need* shoes outside. But with this newfound freedom (you’re welcome, toes) comes the chaos of the season. Unstructured days bring unpredictability, frustrations, and a great need for a few minutes of calm.
Two of my least favourite terms in the whole world are pre-baby body and post-baby body. Google ‘pre-baby body’ and you get an astounding 13 000 000 results. ‘Post-baby body’ is even worse, coming in at 50 000 000 results. 63 000 000 results in total, most of them dedicated to showing you the way to have a fabulous post-baby body. We live in a society where it has become a badge of honour if you can erase pregnancy from your body as quickly as possible. Celebrities lead the way of course and society follows dutifully, trying to live up to an image made possible only with personal trainers, chefs, rigorous schedules and of course good lighting, plastic surgery plus in many cases just plain old good genes.
Everything in life is about getting through that first twenty seconds.
This post originally appeared on Her Happy Heart.
Yes, you heard me right. I am a well-seasoned mother of a handful of months, offering out advice in reminiscent form.
But what inspired me to write this post was the absurd number of friends I know who are about to pop with their first little ones, and because I basically gave birth two minutes ago, I feel like I have a super fresh perspective on that immediate change of lifestyle.
Bringing home a newborn baby for the very first time is an experience like no other. It’s wonderful – your home is now a family home, where millions of memories, big and small, are about to unfold. It’s scary – you’ve never in your life had such a vulnerable little person be so dependent on you. It’s beautiful – you’re learning to love in a new, fierce way. And it’s exhausting – nothing can prepare you for it.