Finding the Joy

I read a great article recently on finding the joy in motherhood. She suggests at the conclusion of the post to spend one or two minutes at the end of each day writing in a journal, starting with ‘Happiness is…’ to focus on the positives in what can be a seriously stressful time. I really need to start doing this. Today. 

I am feeling like a resident of Struggle Town again, feeling like I am not giving enough, that I don’t have enough to give, that I am not being a good mother and wife and friend and daughter and sister and and and…

Does this relate to breastfeeding? I don’t think so, specifically… Though feeding is a bit rough at the moment (I’ll do a post about that a bit later) and perhaps it exacerbates it, I don’t know. I think it just relates to having an almost three-month old and a 2.5 and a bit year old. It relates to having a family in a foreign country a whole world away from where I grew up, where I am still learning the language, where I will always be, to some degree, an outsider, and where every sign of integration is something I cherish. It relates to always being tired and always being in some degree of pain (pelvic, hip, sciatica, neck, ankle and shoulder are my current aggravators) which makes me grumpy and not the loveliest person to live with. It relates to not being able to work on my novel properly for over two years. It relates to having a toddler who is the most highly sensitive kid that I have ever come across, which is of course so beautiful but also so emotionally exhausting at times, and makes me sad that I can’t do some of the things that I always dreamt of doing with my child – making snowmen and snow angels, going to a christmas market, singing carols, enjoying the beach, joining him on a carousel, etc.

So. Things that happened today. Happiness is:
  • Watching my eldest boy overcome his fear of the big slide and then go down with his friend over twenty times — on his bottom, his tummy and even head first.
  • Watching my littlest bubba in the arms of one of my best friends, so happily watching the goings on in the world, and her remarking on how lovely he is.
  • Making muffins with my big boy and smiling at the fact that he is still too scared to crack the egg with me, but instead gives me very specific directions about how it has to be done.
  • Admiring the beauty that is a two year old’s body as he races around the house in only his train undies, and knowing that we made that.
  • Feeling the overwhelming love as my two boys lie next to each other, smiling at each other.
  • Having two kids in bed early enough to have an actual full conversation with my husband.
I realise this is just a me post, and not a breastfeeding post. But having a three month old baby and dealing with feeding issues and the resultant life issues kind of go hand in hand it seems.

Edit! Forgot to add my requisite BF photo! Here it is.

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