It’s my morning off and I should be doing house-wifely things, like ironing socks or something, but instead, here I am, writing this. It’s just some of my more recent musings. I felt the need to share because, the trouble is, when your main conversational companions are under the age of 4 and/or a different species, these ponderings just tend to almagamate in your brain and can slowly drive you a teensy bit bonkers…
So Firstly, the response to my #misCOURAGE story for Tommy’s has been amazing. Wow. Of course, it’s devastating that I’ve been contacted by so many women who have suffered the same thing, but it makes me feel happy to know that my post compelled them to speak out. Message after message from women telling me it has helped them. Which is so great. If it means that just one person felt that tiny bit better, then it’s served a purpose and I’m really pleased I was able to put it out there.
Next, I’ve just been perusing Instagram (if you’re not on it yet, why not?!) and thinking about the lovely community I’ve become a part of on there. Over the last year or so, I’ve gotten to know other people through it and I guess I’d now consider them to be friends; even though we’ve never met (and maybe the feeling isn’t reciprocated – in which case AWKWARD). But to me (perhaps in my hormone induced state), in this little community that we have, we seem to have become invested in the lives of these other people in our phones. We watch their children grow. We feel pride at their accomplishments. We support them in their sadness. It’s the kindness of these “strangers” that has seen me through some of the toughest times recently and although social media can be a very scary place, it’s also a lovely one too. So to my virtual “friends”, thank you. For a stay-at-home-mama, who can sometimes feel very isolated, you’ve been a wonderful port in a storm.
Here’s a scary one: Since having children, I’ve gotten a lot braver around spiders. Inside, I want to crawl into my own skin and die, anytime I see one; but outwardly, I exude a calm and collected manner, whilst I dispose of them (ensuring they are entirely dead and flushed down the toilet – sorry animal activists, but I do not want to risk the wrath of an angry spider coming back for me) because I don’t want the offspring to grow up as petrified of them as I am. This week, however, there have been three (yes, THREE) spiders, on separate occasions, on my bed! And that’s just the ones that I’ve seen… So clearly I’m now living a scene from Arachnophobia and will need to set my bed alight right away and put my house on the market asap.
Finally, I have a Tesco delivery due any minute and they’re bringing me a 6-pack of KitKat Chunkies and plan to eat at least 4 of them before the offspring get home.