What a wonderful thing time is. It passes quickly, slowly, imperceptibly, irrevocably. If you can get through it, you can get through anything. And so here we are. After one year, two months and fifteen days, I finally feel as if I am getting back some of my own time, and I have to tell you, it feels wonderful! I love being a mum, but it is not the only thing about me. Today is not a landmark day, nothing major has happened to make me feel like this, but the sun is shining and as I took the time to walk the last part of my journey to work along the river, I realised that yes, I am getting my life back.
Taking time back has been a gradual process, which started with the little lady going to nursery. It wasn't the smoothest process initially and we both struggled at times, but she cracked it and now she loves it. It has enabled me to go back to work, which again hasn't been easy – there's been a certain amount of guilt, my priorities have altered and I have frequently questioned whether or not I'm doing the right thing, but I have (at least today, I think I have), and it's good for both of us. I get to use my brain and can engage in adult conversation about something other than babies; and she gets to throw powder paint onto the snow and feed baby goats from a bottle. I work for three days a week, which means that the majority of my week is spent with her – it's a better balance all round. More than this, it's not just rejoining the world of work that has been a good thing. The time that I spend either side of my working day is a wonderful thing, the commute which used to be a bit of a chore has now become my own precious time to read, knit, daydream or even freelance. I have read more in the last ten weeks than in the entire year of my maternity leave and I LOVE it!
Most recently, I've been reading a lots of great books. Highlights have been Bellman and Black by Diane Setterfield, The Paying Guests by Sarah Waters, The Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins the two 'Cormoran Strike' novels by Robert Galbraith (aka J. K. Rowling), Waffle Hearts by Maria Parr, The Bone Clocks by David Mitchell, The Interestings by Meg Wolitzer and Perfect by Rachel Joyce. I'm currently devouring Picnic at Hanging Rock by Joan Lindsay and can't wait to get stuck into The Museum of Extraordinary Things by Alice Hoffman. Catriona is currently reading Hippos Go Beserk! by Sandra Boynton, Rosie's Walk by Pat Hutchins and Noodle Loves to Cuddle by Marion Billet.
It is wonderful to be back in the world of books, both reading and making. But beyond books, I've also taken up yoga again and have found a really enjoyable vinyasa flow class in a village just outside of Salisbury. I have picked up my needles again in earnest and am knitting a sweet little cabled cardigan for Catriona's friend Janey. I'm gradually doing the things that I used to enjoy so very much before having a baby.
To be honest, the baby isn't really such a baby anymore. She is walking (clumsily) and talking (in an almost intelligible way) and full of cuddles and kisses. Developmentally, it seems like there is something new every single day. This week, she climbed the stairs for the first time and last week, she walked over to the fridge, opened the door and helped herself to a punnet of raspberries. This morning, before I left for work she said, "Bye" and gave me a lovely, lovely kiss. I can't tell you how hard it was to leave the house. She has everything ahead of her and she amazes me every day.
Looking forward, I want to carry on keeping the balance; looking after her and looking after me. I want to appreciate my lovely husband more, get out running regularly, make more, read other people's blogs more, get out in the garden more and maybe even go out on a date... (Oh, and blog more – see you soon.)
