Over the past 12 months I have been knee deep in diapers, kindy drop off, birthday parties, PTA meetings, mushy food, playgroup, laundry, school enrolments… and all the other cliche things that mums do.
And here’s the thing:
It’s not me.
Don’t get me wrong, I loved it. I am SO lucky I got twelve entire months to saturate my newborn baby in love. And even luckier that the timing coincided with O’s last year before school. I loved it. And I thought I’d miss it.
But I don’t…
After my first week back at work, I can honestly say that that is not me.
I realised something.
Happiness and satisfaction are not always the same thing.
Yup, I was happy floating away in my mummy bubble. But I wasn’t satisfied.
I dunno, I guess I should feel guilty. But I don’t. If anything I feel guilty for not feeling guilty… because #mumlife, but I don’t feel bad for enjoying my career and being an individual for 25 hours a week!
Did I think about my kids whilst I’m working? Yeah, a bit… but not as much as maybe I should have. Did I worry about them? No, not at all.
They are safe. They are settling in, but they will be happy.
And I’m me. Still, always. And popping out a baby or two hasn’t changed that.
Whether it’s working for the man, staying home with your babies, or a little bit of both, heck even a little bit of neither- babes you’ve got to do you. You’ve got to be happy, but you’ve really got to be satisfied!!