Absence makes the heart grow fonder?

I've been absent recently, missing from twitter, from playgroups, from friendships, relationships and sadly I think from motherhood.

I told someone yesterday that I wasn't depressed. It's not someone I normally lie to, not that I lie often but you know the people you answer fine to and the one you tell the gory truth to. Well the person was one of the latter sort.

It got me thinking though. I don't want to talk to people, I don't want to go out, I can't be bothered with ANYTHING. Cooking has gone out the window, I can't think to plan meals let alone cook them. I'm not keeping up with the housework, even my reading has nearly stopped which is unheard of. My mothering has been hands off at best. Setting up invitations to play out of guilt but then walking away..... There hasn't been as much interaction as I would normally like. N is cuddly and clingy and I know its because I'm distant and he is reacting to this.

Yet I don't feel that dark gloom and despair that depression brings. I feel apathetic, detached, in my own little world.

I'm tired, so tired I could sleep all day and do when N isn't here.

I feel like I'm recuperating, but what from? My fibro was rough for a while but it's ok ish now. I have some other valid reasons for the tiredness but not this blah feeling.

I want to shake myself up! Give myself a kickstart but I'm not sure how.

I don't want to talk to the doctor as I know given my history with depression he will just reach for the tablets and I don't want that. But I do need something, what I don't know but something that brings me in from the cold where I've been stood with my nose pressed up the window looking in at my life.

I know there's a problem, I know how it's affecting me so that's half the battle right? I just need to be able to deal with things now and get back to living.

Easy yeah?

P x

A poem for my little boy

I was reading the Brit Mums literature round up when i realised i had a poem i wanted to write. I'm not really the poem writing sort and indeed haven't done so since school but this is something that's been bothering me for a while now. I don't really know the right way to write a poem so please excuse any mistakes.

Like a Nat this subject buzzes around my subconscious all the time, nibbling away at me.

Am i failing my son, does he lose out because of my fibromialgia? Is it my fault he isn't as rough and tumble as some other little boys his age? Guilt, that age old mothers curse.  

My husband read this and said it made him very sad, i didn't mean it that way. This is just how it came out. It's just how i feel sometimes when I'm a little low. I don't feel like this every day, just on days like today when i did a little too much yesterday and had to spend the majority of today resting.

Little Boy

Little boys tumble, jump, run and play.
How much of this did i give you this day?
Little boys wild and free
Did you feel the wind whisper merrily?
Little boys, dirty and tired from playing in long grass forests.
How much of this life do i give you if honest?
I spend the time, that is true but little boy am i failing you?
Mommy cant run and Mommy cant hide
Mommy cant bend without pained noise
I try little boy, i promise i do
I give you all i have through and through
We laugh and tickle
Read and paint
Play dough, blocks and stickle bricks of late
Sensory trays and imaginary play
Is it enough without the melee?
Am i failing your gross motor skills
by living with mommy's many ills
I smile and wave as Daddy takes you off
To run, kick, climb and scrabble
To come back smelling of grass, air and brooks that babble
A knee torn or knuckle bare
I shut the door, not showing a care
I go to bed to shed a tear
Wishing life wasn't so contained to my armchair


What do you wish you could do differently? How do you feel about the way you mother your children.

I'd love to hear.

P x