Adulting (Don't Do It)

Once upon a time (read: when I was sixteen), I was so eager to grow up. I wanted to be trusted to make my own decisions, to go where I wanted and do what I wanted without being accountable to anyone. I wanted to get out of my hometown and live on my own. To have a successful career, to travel, to meet new people and try new things and just be whatever I wanted.
The whole idea of being an adult simply oozed freedom.

Well. How wrong was I.

Here I am, seven years later, avoiding all of the things I still have to do today and writing a blog post over a bowl of soup. Boo is having her 'rest time', watching "Despicable Me" so that will give me another forty-five minutes or so of clear (read: child-free) brain time. I have placement things to do, housewife things to do, and project things to do; each time I cross one off my list, another seems to write itself just underneath.

I could, in fact, do nothing. I could drink tea and crochet hats until the cows come home (so to speak. No, husband, I do not mean you). But there are consequences.

See, that is where life gets you. As a youth, you don't really get the idea that one day there will be consequences that actually exist in the real world. Not like 'if you don't clean your room I'm going to do it for you (which means going through your stuff)'. Or 'doing badly in this exam means you'll get a bad score for uni offers (which, despite what we keep telling you, will not in fact ruin the rest of your life)'.

Oh no. In the adult world, there are actual consequences. Like, if you don't pay your rent, you will not have accommodation. Or, if you don't actively work towards getting a career by studying or applying for jobs, you won't actually get one. Or, if you don't do the dishes or the laundry, you and your family will be naked and hungry.

Being an adult is not this carefree, latte-sipping, traveling-pants-wearing, dream-job-having, free-spirit living in a perfect world I'd imagined. No. It's an exhausted, cranky, stretched-too-thin creature who is driven by fear of being naked and hungry.

The moral of this ramble, dear friends, is this: don't start being an adult - because once you do, there is no stopping. Just don't do it.

Hello, Reality.

Most of the time, it is all too easy to keep on The Face. You know the one - The Mother Face.
The face that says "Hi, I'm a parent and I handle everything super well and everything is wonderful and I'm amazing at life".

Today is not one of those days.

I woke up this morning with big storm clouds swirling around in my head. I can't remember the last time I got a decent nights sleep - pretty sure I was awake every two hours last night. My house is a disaster zone, I haven't been on top of housework all week. I have a to-do list a mile long, and half the things on that list are half-planned and confusing. I have two assessments to start. I feel like I'm not spending enough time engaging with Boo. I haven't been looking after myself well lately.

Life is starting to spiral out of control and I am struggling to get it together.

I'm stressed, tense, anxious and starting to show my warning signs of a relapse into depression.

I am far from functioning well.

So why am I posting this?

I'm not after sympathy. I'm not even really whinging and moaning about life. And I'm certainly not after any kind of help. In fact, I already have a management plan ready to go.

A lot of the time I feel there is so much pressure on mothers to appear to function perfectly.To be the best mother. The best housekeeper. To work or study or both, and to thrive. To have a social life. To balance it all perfectly. And so that's what we show the world.

Who does all this pressure come from? Good Question. Probably everywhere - other mums, media, etc etc etc. But mostly - I think it comes from ourselves.

No one really wants to admit that they struggle being a parent; apparently it implies that we fail. But that also means that we're carrying a lot of the internal struggle alone. What point is there in that, when the vast majority of us go through the same things?

It's so easy to filter ourselves - both in person and online. I believe in being honest and real with people. It is so important to acknowledge that we have our bad days too. We can't be perfect all of the time. Even half of the time. Or any of the time. And we should support each other to realise that and give ourselves a break.

Today, I suck at life. And that's okay.