It didn't help that the past few weeks have been more difficult than those early, confusing, mysterious newborn weeks. Freddie has been very unlike himself, clingy, whiny, unsettled, not content with anything we do. He didn't want to eat or drink anything, or play with his toys or watch Curious George. I took him to the doctors worried that he had a bug or something, and was told that he was likely teething, or going through a growth spurt, prescribed some Calpol and told to wait it out. Wait it out we did. Falling into bed every night thinking 'This too, shall pass.' Austin would come home every day to a crying baby and a girlfriend with a pounding headache pulling her hair out.
I felt like the world's worst parent. I found myself losing patience and energy and I didn't know what to do. More than one day was spent not getting dressed, not brushing my teeth, not eating. Just lying on the sofa with Fred, stroking his head, it seemed that was all he wanted to do. I felt guilty that these days would leave me so despaired, how would I cope in a couple of years when he was running me ragged, pulling tantrums and screaming at me? If I can't handle a bit of teething and a growth spurt, how will I cope with the next 18 years?
And when I passed Freddie to his dad, or my mum, and he wouldn't make a murmur for them, gurgling and laughing on their knee, it made me want to cry. Did he hate me? Why does he only cry for me? Do I not play with him enough? Is it because I tried to get him to eat that last spoonful of fish pie?
I often feel such pressure to be a perfect mother. One who has a happy boy, spotless clothes, fed and watered and playing with his toys, with a smile for everyone. I should have a full face of make up and perfect hair, the house immaculate, with dinner on the table and a cake in the oven. Do you go to any baby groups? Do you sing to him and sign the words at the same time? Can he swim 100 lengths? Can Freddie speak fluent Thai yet? I should be able to keep up conversation with my friends, the latest television programmes/films/songs/make up/clothes. Who was wearing what and who has been where. Have you been to *insertcoolnewbar* here yet? Are you going on holiday? Any festivals? Have you read this? Can you come here? And finding time for myself, doing the things I like, reading, writing, baking, doing my nails, going for drinks with friends. When will I get to utilise my degree? How many more interviews and job applications before I can do what I have worked for the past 5 years to do? What about my relationship, when it all gets too much, we definitely hurt the ones we love.
Nobody puts this pressure on me. I know that nobody expects this, and when I don't reply to my friends texts because I have been trying to get Freddie to nap/eat, I know they understand. My mum often offers to watch Fred for the day while I have some time to myself, I usually say no. On the days Austin comes home to a clean house, clean and dressed little family, dinner on the table he is stunned. Why did you do all of this? You should have waited for me, we could have done it together.
Why do we do this to ourselves? I made myself a promise this week. To worry less, and play more. To not leave Freddie in front of the telly for 20 minutes while I mint the kitchen, but to play with him instead. To sometimes use nap times to do the things I enjoy and not peeling potatoes or hoovering. Maybe a pizza in the oven for dinner is okay. Sometimes the dishes can stay in the sink while me and Austin pull out the old blanket and watch crap telly.
If spinning plates is an art, I put down my paintbrush.
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