Blog Every Day in August: Happiness Is…
I am taking part in Yummy Mummy in Training’s Blog Every Day in August challenge.
Day 4 is: Happiness Is…
|This is what happiness looks like.|
I don’t think I’ve been able to say I was more than just fleetingly happy since I was… well, too young to really understand what it means. Until I had S, that is. Then I had the bumpiest of all bumpy introductions to motherhood, and now?
The things I would have said were preventing my happiness before don’t matter.
I’m the most skint, the most sleep deprived, the most stressed I think I’ve ever been. I don’t get to go out for dinner any more, I don’t get to go to the cinema or out drinking with my friends. The majority of the TV I watch is children’s shows, and by the time I can switch it to something a little more high brow, I’m usually too exhausted to pay proper attention to it. Any spare money I have is spent on treats for S, or buying clothes for next season. I’m permanently behind on the washing, I regularly either trip over or stand on unfortunately-shaped toys, and I rarely get my bed to myself!
BUT I am filled with a love I never even knew existed. S is tiny, but she still gives the absolute best cuddles I have ever experienced. She doesn’t take away any of my financial woes, she doesn’t make me less sleepy (she makes me more sleepy!), she doesn’t offer up meaningful, stimulating conversations in place of socialising with my friends (“oh look, a doggie! Hi doggie!”). I can’t take her to the cinema with me, and since I’m still breastfeeding her, I can’t drink whether she’s in the room or not. She makes no end of mess, and it’s always the half-filled bowl of jelly that gets thrown across the room, rather than the sandwich.
BUT she still makes me feel all warm inside. The mere thought of her makes me grin from ear to ear. She is so beautiful, so clever, so funny, I can’t help but be instantly jolted out of any self-pity I may indulge in.
These days, I often find myself pushing the buggy through town, laden down with bags and getting rained on because I don’t have a spare hand to hold an umbrella, and thinking, “so, this is what happiness is.”