Activity vs. Achievement

Do you ever wonder what you did with your day?

I do.

It's quite common for me to be awoken at 6:30 and not to return to the comfortable dent in my pillow until midnight. And yet, I struggle to see what it is I have achieved with those 18.5 waking hours!

That's not to say I am participating in some experiment to test the 'lady-of-leisure' title to breaking point by lollopping on the sofa all day - far from it. My time is occupied by a plethora of roles, responsibilities and tasks. I wear so many different hats, I often can't keep track of them all. But being busy doesn't necessarily mean you've achieved anything.

I think the difference for me is satisfaction. That's the missing element required to convert 'busy'ness to 'achievement'. And when you go for long enough without feeling like you've got anything to show for your efforts, it is soul-destroying. Yes, I have managed to keep the children alive, the washing in its constant clean-dirty-wet-dry-clean cycle, the dishwasher churning. I have even maintained some standard of personal hygiene, playful affection with my partner and  optimism that life won't always feel like this! But these things have to be done again, and again, and again without moving life forwards in any way. If I didn't do them one day, we wouldn't move backwards, life would merely hiccup.

My partner can't always see what I'm whinging about. He can see how busy I've been and thinks I'm knitting with only one needle when I suggest at 11pm I might go and unpack some boxes (from our house move in July)/audit the kids toy collection/hoover the ground floor. He doesn't realise that these are things on the other list of stuff I want to get done and that will make me feel a sense of achievement. I can tick them off life's 'To Do' list. No-one has 'Provide breakfast/lunch/dinner' on their list. 'Breastfeed the baby'. 'Put the shopping away'.

Crazy though this behaviour might seem, it can make a real difference. Anyone who has experienced depression will be familiar with the negativity surrounding a feeling of not being in control of one's life, being on auto-pilot, marking time. It's a slippery slope and allowing days to trickle by without so much as a teeny step being taken in the right direction can be the first step on that slope which will have you on your arse before you can say bugger.

I started a list today. Actually, I created a group on a messaging app for just me and my partner. It's called Achievements. We have plenty of lists around with umpteen tasks we should have done before we moved. They do work for us. But I wanted somewhere we could go to remind us what we've got done rather than haven't even looked at yet. Some days it will only be something little - I realise that. ubt at least it's something. Today, my achievements are [just checking my messaging group with a smug grin in place] enquiring about nursery places for our toddler (and ending up with an appointment for Monday morning!), sourcing this year's real Christmas tree (IKEA from 26th November and only £30 for 6-7ft!) and WRITING THIS POST! Genius!

I'm not going to cure cancer, end famine or achieve world peace. But it might make me feel better about staying at home all day wiping up sick, snot and skids!

Follow on Facebook and Twitter

#PondersNeverEnd   #CrazyStupidDepression

So this is Christmas...

So this is Christmas
And what have we done?
Another year over
A new one just begun

Five years ago I was facing my first Christmas Eve & Christmas morning without my little girl. It was her dad's turn to have her. As a fully fledged member of Adulthood, there was no real problem with this although I wasn't relishing the thought of spending the beginning of the yuletide festivities at home with my cats - that was a life statement I was ready to make!

And there he was. My knight in shining armour. He suggested he stay over on Christmas Eve and head off to his mum's Christmas dinner the next day. I hadn't asked him to. I hadn't even dropped subtle hints, ready to get annoyed at him if he didn't pick up on them. We'd only been seeing each other a matter of weeks (about 6 by my calculation) so I was still trying to dish out the 'crazy' in very small portions, if at all!

Fast-forward a few years and he stepped up in a far more important way. Despite having done it before, it would seem that giving birth for a second time - to our enormous son - was a task for which I was ill-equipped. And without him right by my side I would still be there now trying to deliver an 18 month old!

But that little gesture five years ago - that act of kindness - is what he is all about. He hides it well under the façade of being a grumpy bugger most of the time. Bah Humbug and all that. But when something matters, large or small, he knows.

Merry Christmas, I love you.

The Human Body is an Amazing Thing, but...

The human body is an amazing thing.

However, you'd think it would be able to distinguish between a human embryo and a cold virus. As I am writing this from the discomfort and inconvenience of my cold-filled pregnant body, I can confirm that this is not the case.

I am grateful that my body has placed my immune system on 'standby', so as not to reject the tiny person growing inside me. I just wish that didn't mean that, along with all of the other changes and challenges my first trimester body has been dealing with, it has to also deal with a migraine-turned 2 day headache-turned sword swallowers sore throat-turned snot fest.

As if the first trimester weren't bad enough... We all know how pregnancy takes its toll. Obviously the most drastic changes come between not being pregnant and being pregnant. But aside from the physical, there are plenty of psychological hurdles to overcome too.

Firstly, there's the overwhelming excitement that comes with finding out you're pregnant. This very quickly becomes overshadowed by what could easily be described as parenthood. What if there's something 'wrong' with the baby? What if I miscarry? What if there's more than one?!

And no-one can answer these questions until the 'dating' scan at around 12 weeks pregnant!

As if THAT little lot weren't enough to add to the sleepless nights (already facilitated by the hormone-induced need to pee each individual teaspoon of fluid consumed and the hormone-induced aching joints), there's the anxiety over whether anyone has noticed that you're looking tubby/tired/tormented/ecstatic and whether, in turn, you've made the right decision NOT to tell anyone til you've had the all-clear.

You see, the hardest part of all is having no-one to share it with other than daddy-to-be. And we all now that, no matter how great he might be, no-one's quite like your mum/best mate/sis-in-law when it comes to having a good whinge!

Thankfully, tomorrow marks the beginning of the second trimester for me and Sprout. I expect to wake up devoid of lurgy and feeling bright and glowing. At least, that's what my pregnancy app suggested would happen...soon.

A blog's a funny thing...

It starts off as a thought, an idea, an aspiration

Quickly it becomes a project, an outlet, an escape

Quicker still, a responsibility, a weight, a burden

Rather than freeing, it has become a prison

Rather than inspiring, it conspires

No longer harnessing creativity but harbouring impotence

Finally, it becomes what it is:

Erm...

I sit here. Boyfriend out of the way. Baby sleeping soundly. Pretty Woman for background company. Laptop in front of me (iPad & mobile adjacent).
I am literate. Highly-opinionated. Articulate by nature. A true lover of language and expression.
And I find myself on mute. Nothing to say. Or rather, no specific subject in mind. Why is this?
I can only surmise that it is, in fact, caused by having too many things to say. Having just (9.5 weeks ago but I'm sure I can get away with 'just' for a little while longer) had a baby, I have spent the best part of a year with a brain made of holes held loosely together by disorganised nonsense and baby-related bunkem. Now the fog has lifted and I can't hone in on ONE sensible thread as there is a myriad thoughts which, once forming an orderly queue, awaiting their moment of glorious expression, now like toddlers - one enormous, undiscernible rabble (covered in dribble).
One can only hope this will pass as the knot untangles and the threads return to coherent thoughts & opinions.
Watch this space...my next blog could be about cucumbers, jet engines or the state of modern telephone directories.
Interesting times ahead.