There are nights when I look in on the 3G blissfully at slumber in their beds, and I think, where have my babies gone? And who the hashizzle has replaced them with these beautiful, funny, clever, opinionated young girls? Only now do I fully appreciate Cher’s sentiments and wish I could turn back time.
Never mind about time flying when you’re having fun, I am being sucked into the space/time continuum. Being faced with a dilemma this month about my future, I have been adorning the rose tinted spectacles a little far too often. I keep looking back on past years with wistful sighs, convincing myself that life used to be so easy and carefree.. I’m not referring to my teenage days spent mainly behind the covers of Smash Hits, or even Uni nights huddled in dinghy bar corners cradling a pint and black for two hours - before the next lecture! I am idling the little precious time I have reflecting on last month, last year, the last decade. Telling myself I was happier than I am now, always wanting to turn the clock back and go back to a time that isn’t as difficult as I think it is now. But was it really easier? Was time past as golden as I seem to think it is?
As much as I adore the 3G I drive past couples mooching over newspapers in sunny Sunday London cafes and bemoan the fact that I can’t get past the front page headline before civil war erupts in my living room. I sob with the knowledge that I won’t see the much awaited movie of the month until it arrives on my LoveFilm doormat. Impromptu office nights are a thing of the past; these days I need a two month advance invitation to get the GeordieLad or SuperstarSitter in situ. I wallow in the self-pity of someone who used to do what the hell she liked, and now can’t *stamps foot unashamedly*
GeordieLad likes to remind me how I have moaned his ear off about how I need a new career, I need to change my work/life balance, I need to do this and do that, yadda yadda yadda. If this is the case why do I continue to kid myself that I was so much happier in the past? Okay I had less responsibility in my job back then, but I was still working every damn hour in and out of term time. I was pubbing it about three or four times a week, but as soon as GeordieLad had finished sweeping me off my feet, we were searching for the first rung on the property ladder – that meant no more nights out, instead there were nights in saving cash. Lounging in my pyjamas all day during maternity leave with baby BigL may appear heavenly now, but I was totally and utterly crushed with PND for months and spent days crying with loneliness. Life wasn’t a breeze then, it isn’t a breeze now, and I’m guessing the future isn’t going to waft by on one either
So right now I’m taking stock. I have to re-evaluate and amend my life path for one reason or .another. I have to make some difficult career decisions and tbh I’m frightened. Confidence tank is low. Panic is in fourth gear. But I am in charge of a very precious cargo and I need to take control. Maybe I will one day look back on this moment and wonder why I didn’t appreciate the simplicity of life. Or maybe I should just accept that these are the challenges we get thrown sometimes, and actually taking a look at the world around me will help me to appreciate what I do have. Right now. I’m not glib enough to believe that the next few weeks won’t bring stomach churning moments and tears, but in the grand scheme of life, the universe and the number 42, this bump in my road will be another rose tinted memory before I know it.