I don’t think I need to say this, but just in case it’s not clear. I love my children, I am devoted to the lads, they bring me joy and make me laugh…. Nobody needs to doubt that.
But…
We’ve just had two weeks of rather full on childcare. We took them out of nursery in the run up to Christmas to make sure we could get safely to my parents in Omicron times, and our nursery was shut until 3rd January which is totally fair enough.
We did a lot of fun things, we went to the zoo – we even got to see the pandas, a true rarity – we went to museums, parks and we saw family and friends, safely, after rigorous testing and following all guidelines of course. I’m not saying that sarcastically, I’m annoyingly rule following when it comes to these things. Was very boring at school.
Despite all this lovely memory forming, I was struggling mentally a bit and I didn’t know why because isn’t this meant to be that lovely time where we sing carols, gather round the tree, eat too many pigs in blankets and dream of, sing it with me, a ‘Whiiitteeee Christmassssss!’ (Thanks Bing – Crosby to be clear, not that bloody bunny). But I felt..not myself…and I couldn’t work out why.
Then, I was scrolling through Twitter in one of very few moments I had to myself, and I saw a post by Kat Storr (@thesocialstorr) which immediately resonated with me. I was ‘touched out’. She spoke about the same thing, never being left alone, feeling a bit suffocated, always being touched. And I understood why I felt that way, and, given the response to her tweet, we were not alone.
I realised I hadn’t been to the toilet alone for days, and I rarely didn’t have a child hanging on to me, wanting to be on my lap, wanting to be in my bed, just wanting me me me all the time.
With Lad 1, this is not so bad most of the time, he’s very cuddly and most the time I love that, I love his tight hugs, and his small hand holding mine, his nonsensical stories, the way that he smells even, but I’ve been his favourite for a while now and it’s A LOT, I have no space, I have no me time.
I do generally love the affection but the problem is when you add in Lad 2 – and that’s when the real over touching begins.
As mentioned before, Lad 2 is rough and tumble, he bites, he grabs, he hair pulls – and this is mostly aimed solely at me and Benji. Benji uses me to hide behind and then I’ll spend what feels like hours with the two of them all over me trying to get to or away from each other, while I try to avoid Jake’s teeth (he bit through my skin the other day, it’s painful!) and stop Benji pushing Jake away too hard and it’s just this huge wrestling match which is absolutely exhausting and they get hurt. And I get hurt. This ‘aggressive love’ ALWAYS ends in tears, sometimes mine if I’m honest.
Then, there is my favourite moment of the day. Both bathed, cosy jammies, with their milk, watching Night Garden probably, and Jake SITS STILL on my lap, leaning against me, just enjoying his milk. And he is still. Jake is never still. Even my mother-in-law was taken aback by how physical he is, and I’ve spoken about this on another blog. I cherish this brief moment, This is when I get to enjoy his baby smell. I love it.
I know this sounds like I want the touching to be on my terms, and maybe that makes me a bad mother, but is this so unreasonable? I gave them my body for 9 months each, longer if you count the breastfeeding (which I loved before anyone has a go at me!). But sometimes, I just want to have a cup of coffee – we all know I mean gin, but let’s pretend for second- and watch adult TV, not that kind, and maybe even, gasp, have a conversation with the lad dad without being interrupted.
Overall, I know I’ll remember the holidays as a lovely time, complicated again by covid, but by no means lessened in enjoyment. And I know when they’re older, and liking their mother isn’t cool, that I’ll miss their cuddles and squeezes. Maybe not those bites though…
But for now, with them both back at nursery, I can just enjoy my breathing space again.
Mummy And Her Lads 