I woke up this morning the same as any other morning, to the sounds of my husband getting ready to leave for work. He always comes in before leaving to check that I’m awake otherwise I would just keep on snoozing. As usual I had a hard time waking up, feeling really groggy & with a very sore jaw (I’m a night time tooth grinder). Hubby was talking to me & I was trying my best to listen to him but could only open one eye but still managed to nod & murmur in all the right places.
It suddenly came to me that I’d had terrible nightmares & it all started flooding back to me. It was one of those nightmares you just couldn’t get out of (probably thanks to my ‘Lucid Dreaming’ meditation I do most nights to fall asleep) and it didn’t matter how many times I woke up or tossed & turned, I just kept returning to the same horrible dream. I said to my husband ‘I had some horrible nightmares last night’ to which he responded ‘yeah I know, you kept me up all night calling out in your sleep & hogging the blankets (don’t even go there!!) I’m so tired’ & then he changed the topic & shortly after left for work.
I got up & the normal morning chaos ensued, no disappointment there. Darling 1 had failed to wash the conditioner out of her hair properly so I had her head over the kitchen sink trying to do it for her without getting her school uniform and my kitchen floor wet. Darling number 2 was taking a break from the usual obnoxious morning attitude because he wanted me to take him shopping after school for a Halloween costume & a haircut so that was a bonus. Darling 3 & 4 take after me & are not morning people so I had one on either side of me with their arms wrapped around a leg each crying and asking for mummy cuddles & hot milk all whilst I was trying to hustle the older two to hurry the f**k up & make lunches. I managed to settle the younger girls with promises of cuddles once their big brother & sister left for school, made the kids lunches, washed the conditioner out of Emily’s hair, only to find she wasn’t wearing any socks because she couldn’t find any (because she never puts her washing away) locate the Myki card that goes missing EVERY morning & stop my son dead in his tracks at his attempt of ‘fake sicking’ (a term coined by my children meaning to pretend to be sick to get a day off school) and get the older two out the door to be collected by my awesome neighbour to walk them to the bustop.
Holy shit what a morning. Once the older two had left & the younger two had gone to the playroom to make it a bigger mess than what it already was, I sat down on the couch & went through the events of last night in my head, the details of the nightmare came back to me very vividly & it was quite confronting. I have a phobia of spiders, I am absolutely shit scared of them & cannot even get close enough to kill one. I could write a whole post about how my fear of spiders came about but I’ll leave that for another day. It also involved snakes, my mum’s passing, losing my baby son & just about every fear I have, and there are many. One of those dreams that sticks with you. I then started thinking about my husband’s dismissal of my dream other than to state how it had affected him, without any regard for me & thought to myself ‘does he even care about me?’.
Please let me state that I do not mean this in a first world problem kind of way or poor me or I’m so special the whole world should stop because I’ve had a crap night’s sleep (if that was the case the world would have ceased turning long ago). I know I am very blessed to have many beautiful people, both friends & family who I know without a doubt love me, but my question is, do they care about me?.
I know that my kids love me with their entire heart and soul and that feeling is reciprocated times infinity, but do they care when they pull my hair & it hurts me, wake me up during the night, step on my bare feet in gumboots, kick me when I’m changing nappies, I can’t tell you the amount of head butts I’ve been on the receiving end of, in the nose, the very sensitive eye & cheekbone area, thanks to the toddler in my lap suddenly throwing their head backwards (which is like a concrete slab) & when they make their myriad of demands.
I know they are too young to understand & children are egocentric by nature, they have to be to survive & they haven’t yet gained the maturity or the cognitive ability to realise the world does not revolve around them, but do you see the point I’m trying to make?.
I know my husband loves me, we have been married for 10 years & he was my rock when my mum died & when we lost our baby son, he is also my best friend but can be my worst enemy. He looks after me & the kids by going to work & providing for us (and usually cooking dinner too!!) but makes sure I know it & depending on his mood, may come home yelling at me because the kids lounge room is a mess and what the **** have I done all day, other than look after 2 kids all day, 4 kids for part of the day, a load of washing, cleaned up the many messes the 3 year olds make during the day, made lunch, tidied our bedroom, emptied & restocked the dishwasher, put washing away etc. That’s an easy day at my place. Does he care about me?.
Does he care that getting the kids out of the door in the morning is tantamount to running a marathon both physically & especially psychologically & I’m usually a nervous angry mess afterwards. Does he care that I haven’t had a full night’s sleep in many years & that I quite often bed hop so that he and the older kids can sleep without being disturbed by the non sleeping 3 year olds, and as a result have very broken sleep myself?. Usually squashed into a single bed with one or sometimes two toddlers, or hanging off the side of my bed because one of them is in our bed sleeping horizontally. Does he care that some days I feel so drained & grumpy & just cannot be bothered doing anything?. Even having a shower & getting dressed feels like the biggest chore that requires way too much energy.
I feel as though I am just this machine that is expected to run at full throttle 24/7 with the sole purpose of making everyone else’s life better & presenting a facade that isn’t necessarily accurate. I feel like a clone of a stepford wife with the expectation of a pristine house, with clean & tidy children (one of my older kids comes home from school EVERY day with food, dirt & god knows what smeared all over their face) and myself the representation of an (almost) perfect mum and anyone who knows me knows that isn’t going to happen. When my mum was still here, she was my support whilst I looked after my family & it was great to be able to talk to her about my frustrations, which I know are very normal. She propped me up so I could continue to provide this support to my family. She cared if I was sick or unhappy. I miss her beyond measure, her friendship & love was absolutely priceless. She made me feel like a person again and made me laugh but most of all she not only loved me but she cared about me too.