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.
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