Monday 22 September 2014

Run away Mum

After another batch of illness, a constantly aching arm and spending all of my time helping everyone else, I've reached the point where I could very easily run away.

Actually, I dream of running away. Not permanently of course, but just for a night or two. I would love to go somewhere that has a large comfy bed, fluffy slippers and a fluffy robe, a fabulous bottle of wine, and dinner cooked for me. 

I would love to go somewhere that doesn't have a baby squealing at ear piercing decibels or a husband asking what's for lunch. I would love to go somewhere where there is no washing to fold or an ironing pile that resembles the leaning tower of Pisa.

I would love to go somewhere where there isn't a cat putting fur all over the mat or baby bottles stacking up in the sink. I would love to go somewhere where the neighbours aren't playing the drums or standing outside my window arguing at 1am.

I would love to go somewhere where I'm not plagued with the sound of my own hacking cough or screams of pain. I would love to go somewhere where I don't answer the phone to ungrateful and difficult people. I would love to somewhere where there is no stress.

Of course the problem with running away, is all of this would be waiting for me when I got home. Because no one would have thought to do anything about the bottles, or the washing, or the fur while I was gone. 

The new found strength I've found as a mother truly astounds me. When everyone else is sick, tiered and grumpy, I'm the one who has to forge on. When I'm sick, tiered and grumpy, I'm still the one who has to forge on. A mother truly is the strongest woman in the world. And while I'm glad I've found that strength, it doesn't stop me dreaming of a break from my life right now. Just a small, rejuvenating break so for a day or two, I don't need to find any strength at all.  


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