So I’m sat nursing a hangover, sobering up and bracing myself to go get crazy toddler P. I’ve missed her, she spent the night at Granny T’s whilst I went out for a few (ahem too many) drinks with my surrogate baby sister gal pal. It was a bit of an impromptu last minute plan after moaning at lady L that I needed some me time.

Don’t get me wrong I love toddler P, it’s me and her against the world and her sass, hilarity and confidence has got me through the darkest times. But I was and am my own person too and I’ve forgotten that lately.

After leaving my husband, I went into fight or flight mode and chose to fight. I need to survive and I threw myself into coping and doing well. I had to prove to myself I could be a good mum and good leader. I needed to be successful in my career whilst also being a successful mum and I can confidently say I’ve kicked some serious arse at both of the last 20months. But I’m a person too.

Someone recently said to me that I gave them the impression that my life was me and toddler P now and that there wasn’t room for anyone else. And to a certain extent that’s true. It is me and her the dream team and it’s brilliant. However, I need a bit of me as well. I need some tome where I’m just me, not mum me, not teacher me, not curriculum leader me, just me.

So I started dancing again in September and that’s been fab, I’ve dusted off my pointe shoes (and got some shiney new ones) and got that bit of me back. I’ve been saying yes to more social engagements instead of declining because not wanting to ask for childcare. I’ve started getting crafty again and restocked my art supplies, made Christmas decs, tags and cards. It’s started to put that bit of me back into my life, I’m laughing more, I’m genuinely smiling more and feeling a bit warmer and happier inside.

My biggest two problems is I doubt myself too much and I’m too afraid to ask for help sometimes. I don’t like to put myself out. My neighbour offered help twice this week for trivial things, hanging up some outdoor Christmas lights and babysitting duties. I declined saying I could manage and she turned and said, “oh you’re doing it again, Miss I can do it” reminding me that yes maybe I can do it but it’s ok to let people give me a helping hand and that they want to have my daughter sometimes. They enjoy her company and know that, that bit of me time helps me to be a good mum. So good old G is going to help me Christmasify my bay window and lovely C and V will be called upon to entertain toddler P sometimes whilst I keep rebuilding my sparkle and enjoying life.

I’m more than just a mum and I need to remind myself of that more and more. I need to get back out there seize the day, stop worrying and have a bit more fun. Because then I’m a better mum for it, I’m excited to see my girl this morning, I’m itching to see what P-isms she’s going to come out with, I’m looking forward to hearing her belly laugh and see her sparkly eyes. I’m looking forward to it, because I’ve had a bit of me time away.

One thought on “More than just a mum.

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