Struggle

Life has been getting me down lately.  I've been having a pretty tough time, and I can't seem to get outside my own head.

So today I took the time to speak to someone.

Because I can't rely on others to fix me.  I have to do it.

And write about it.

Obvi.

You see, I loathe myself.  I have no faith in my abilities. My ability to parent my kids, which I think I'm shit at and which is kinda why I don't blog anymore because I don't want people to know how bad I am at this parenting gig. Today my son told me that he just wants me to play with him.  Heart fucking broken.

My job, my lack of skills, my inability to move forward.  I've been doing the same job for 11 years.  But it's my fault.  I've had no increase in pay.  No advancement. Nothing.  It's fucking depressing.  Every time that I think that I'm good at my job, I question why I'm still there.  Why am I still doing the same thing? Maybe I'm just not that good at anything.  Not everyone is clever and talented and good at things.  Maybe this is exactly where I need to be and this is it.  I'm not sure what I'm trying to say but the fact remains that I'm still doing the same thing 11 years later.  Speaks for itself really.

The fact that we are broke 99% of the time.  Living paycheck to paycheck, barely scraping by and  unable to do things on weekends with the kids as we literally can't afford the fuel.  Last weekend I used various gift cards that I found in my purse to buy fruit and bread for my kids to eat.

I don't know where I'm going wrong.

I was exercising, I was feeling happy, and then I wasn't.  And I started eating junk food all the time and my clothes got too tight and I looked in the mirror and just wanted to vomit.  I don't want to have sex with my husband because I don't respect anyone who would be attracted to this.  I can't look at myself in the mirror.  I feel angry alot.  I resent my husband's carefree attitude, my kids getting everything done for them, everyone else for being happy and succeeding in life, buying homes, getting good jobs, having well-behaved children...

Last week I was feeling so bad that I wanted to run away and leave my family and never come back. But I didn't want my kids to be sad. And miss me. And hate me.  Because mother's don't leave their kids unless they're awful scum of the earth human beings.

Right?

I was going to apply for a position today that I'm woefully under qualified for, but the thing is, that I could do it!!  I could do this job!  And I would love it!

But I was sick and scared and I didn't do it.

It closed this afternoon.

Which I guess is why I am where I am today.

Because I'm not willing to take risks and feel even worse about myself when I ultimately fail.  The perennial pessimist.

Is it any wonder that I feel as shit as I do?

Yes.  I'm working on it.

Yes. I know that this is irrational and I'm obviously having some sort of episode.

Yes. I'm a drama queen for sharing all this on my blog.

No. I'm not going to kill myself.  I wouldn't even know where to start.  And I'm way too scared to attempt ANYTHING remotely self-harming unless you count eating multiple bags of potato chips and chocolate chip cookies in one sitting...

I just need a stern talking to and to let go of my bullshit.  I just don't think I can dig myself out of that on my own at this time. And that's why we should always speak up and talk to someone if shit gets too much. 

It's not weakness.

It's ok to not be ok. 

Hard

What's that song? That saying?  Nobody said life would be easy, but nobody said it'd be this fricking hard either...  have I got that right?  I can't remember.  My brain is addled from lack of sleep, which is not children related for once, but stress induced insomnia.  

I love insomnia. 

Especially stress induced insomnia.  It's awesome.  I feel so well rested and able to face any challenges that life throws at me.... 

Due to circumstances beyond our control, we are now a one income family. 

My income. 

I only work 24 hours a week so there is not much income INCOMING... see what I did there?  

In fact our bills exceed my income so we are officially up shits creek. 

I have cried so many tears in the last three weeks that I've had to increase my water consumption so I don't get dehydrated. 

I fake smile so much that I can't remember how to smile properly and my face hurts.  

When people ask me how I am, I brightly say 'great' through gritted teeth and move on, because they don't really care anyway. 

It's getting really hard to 'be positive' and 'look on the brightside' when bananas are almost $4 a kg and my kids eat 4 kg a week and people complain to me about how expensive the cost of living is these days as they're sipping their $5.50 takeaway latte and I'm nodding along thinking how the fuck am I going to afford to buy food next week? That latte they're drinking is 1.25kg of bananas!  

To make matters worse, or better, I finally have a date for my surgery.  It's the week after next.  Hooray you say, and hooray I say but fuck!  Could the timing be any bloody worse?!    

On one hand, I really need Juffin to be home to look after me so him not working at the moment is a bit great, but on the other, I really need him to find work so we're not destitute and starving! Can you say catch 22?  Truth be told, in my current state, I could serve to starve for a few days, but my kids, my kids don't need to starve at all.  They need their bananas.  For the love of bananas! 

Surgery also requires recovery time. I really need to take the time and heal properly after this surgery. Which means no kid wrangling, washing, driving etc... I literally just have to lay around which is fine for a day or two but when you have small children, supremely difficult but I have never had proper recovery time after any of my multiple operations and I don't want to have a repeat of this shithouse experience.  

On top of all this drama we've been battling snot monster Molly who has started throwing tantrums already and koalas Juffin 24/7 and a defiant, ignorant Mushroom who won't do as he's told or listen to a damn word either of us say.  To counteract said ignorance, I yell, A lot and it seems to fall on even deafer ears and then I get super mad and my head almost explodes.  I must sound like a total psychopath to my neighbours.  Especially when I'm shouting, "get your fingers out of your bum it's not for playing!" at the top of my lungs. Really feeling like a stellar parent when that needs to be said more than one f-ing time.     

This week I've been plagued with the beginnings of a bad cold and I'm thoroughly sick to death of the shitshow that is my life.  My patience has worn so thin that you can actually see through it.  It's almost non-existent.  I will snap at the tiniest thing.  

So please universe. I would actually just really appreciate it if we could just get a break from the bad juju for a little while... say 45 years? That would be fantastic.  

We still have coffee, and that mountain of washing has been folded and put away.  So there.  

Return

This morning I returned to work.

I spent the better part of my weekend baking, cooking, cleaning, washing, folding, ironing labels, pumping milk and getting organised.

I even pre-packed the slow cooker and put it in the fridge so all I had to do was put it in the case and turn it on.

Of course, because that's how these things work, at 11pm, just as I was crawling into bed, my daughter wakes up.

At first it's a little mewling here and there and then she's quiet.  We think that she's just having a yell and has gone back to sleep when the full blown screaming starts.  And I mean screaming.  Miss Molly has inherited Mum's lungs.

Juffin goes in and sees if he can settle her with a cuddle and a song.

Yes, he sings to her, I don't know what he sings but it works, most of the time.

Anyway, she settles quickly and goes back to sleep.  I go back to bed and try and relax, mentally running through all the things that I have to do in the morning to get to work on time.

The screaming starts again, she has realised Dad has gone.

He tries again but she's all worked up now and is not having a bar of it.

I go in.  I sing, I cuddle, I bum pat and hum, I lay on the floor next to her cot.

The crying continues.

It's now after midnight.

Administer paracetamol.

Juffin takes over again and I go back to bed and lay down but who can sleep with a baby screaming?

At 1am I go in and feed her so we can all get some bloody rest.  Boob and babies usually equals sleep but in this case it's not happening.  At 1.30 I give up.

She is fed, she is dry, she is loved, she is a shit and she needs to go the fuck to sleep.

I walk out and shut the door.

Screaming continues for another 15 minutes before Juffin can't take it any longer and he goes back in.  Exhausted I fall asleep.  It's after 2.

I have no idea what time Juffin finally gets into bed because I wake with a start to sun streaming in on my face and freaking out that my alarm has stopped working.  Alas it's only 5.  Unfortunately I then just lay there, unable to go back to sleep for fear I won't wake up in time to get myself and the kids ready for work and daycare.

So my first day back.  I have maybe 3.5-4 hours sleep.  My makeup melts off before I even get out the door, Mushroom is attempting world record as slowest shoe putterer on-nerer and Molly won't co-operate with nappy cream application and/or nappy snapping.

I am yelling, it's 7.50 and I wanted to be leaving by this time.  Kids don't care.  I throw my work clothes on and I herd slowest small human alive into vehicle and then load the 17000 bags that contain the necessary items to get my kids through the day and we get in the car.

Sweat is dripping off my face and I make it to the roundabout before I realise that I've left my glasses behind and I can't be staring at a computer screen all day with no glasses.  I have to go back to get them.  I turn around and burn back to the house.

"Why are we going back home Mummy?"

"Because I'm a fucking idiot" I grunt under my breath.

"What Mummy?  What you say?"

"Mummy forgot her glasses darling. I just have to go back and get my bloody glasses.."

I locate glasses.  As I'm rushing around my tummy grumbles and I find that my toast is still sitting on the bench uneaten so I grab that and I also spy my coffee.

Coffee that has not yet been consumed.

That's why my brain isn't working. Not enough caffeine. The 3.5 hours sleep has nothing to do with it....

Here's where I would talk about dropping my daughter off at daycare for the first time but I may cry.  So I won't.  I really wanted to find my girl a small family daycare, just like I did for Mushroom, but it just didn't happen. I couldn't find anywhere close enough and driving all the way across town and doing a separate drop off with Mushroom wouldn't work.

I'm not saying that the centre is bad, it's just not what I would have preferred for my baby girl.

Anyway we survived, she survived, she slept, she ate, she cried.  I got blisters because I haven't worn shoes in so long...

Our little bubble has burst and on Wednesday we do it all again...

We're not tired.  Sleep is for the weak!

Bananas

Remember when you were a kid and you felt sick and your Mum would say have a glass of water and eat a banana?

I don't have to do that in this house because you know what guys?  I spent 20 fucking dollars on bananas in the last 10 days.  TWENTY DOLLARS!!  ON BANANAS!

I know when my kids are sick because they WON'T eat a banana.  If my kids won't eat a banana, then they're on their death bed.

My son and daughter will literally inhale bananas.  I've never seen food disappear so quickly.  If I didn't supervise and limit the banana consumption, it would be 4 or 5 a day, each, easy, I shit you not.

I have to buy bananas 2.5kg at a time... Massive bloody bunches of the things. The one's that don't get hoovered up in 2 seconds flat turn into Banana Muffins or Banana Bread, or Banana Oat Cookies... or Banana fucking smoothies.

And you know what?  As a result of all the banana eating, I fucking hate bananas.  I'm sick to death of them.  I can barely stand the smell of banana baked products anymore and I've had enough of making them.  I have been baking some sort of banana product every week for 3.5 years.  I don't need a recipe anymore.  And now Molly loves them too so I'm destined to bake banana products forever more.

There is no point to this post.

Obviously.

I just wanted to voice my disgust with all things banana related.

Ugh.

Baby Banana Monster

Phonecall

Apologies in advance, this blog is quickly turning into a bit of a downer!  Yesterday I got a call from kindy telling me that the Mushroom had high temps so should probably go and get him. It was 2pm.

Because I'm a bad mother my first thought was fuck, I haven't done the floors yet.

Yep, I'm a bad mother.  My son is sick and I'm worried about the floors.  Let me just explain, I wait to do the floors when  Mushroom is at daycare or the MIL's so they at least stay clean for a couple of hours.  Have you seen what kids do to your house?  Your floors?  It's a trail of destruction.  There's food, toys, objects that cannot be identified... I usually do them first thing in the morning but I was fighting with my daughter to get her to go to sleep and it just didn't happen.

Remember my daughter? The one who used to sleep really well.  Ugh, you know the story, babies like to keep you on your toes.

I call Juffin and tell him I have to pick up the little one due to high temps.  We're both baffled as he seemed fine in the morning.  I'm still thinking about my floors when I get to the kindy 10 minutes later.  And there he is, my first born, curled up on the mat in the foetal position.

My heart.

His little face is tear stained and he's clearly very unhappy.  When I reach down to cuddle him, he's so hot to touch that I gasp.  And he just wants me to pick him up.  But I can't because I'm holding my daughter.

My heart.

I decide to put my daughter on the ground and I cuddle my son.  We get his bag and he wraps himself around my legs and we limp out of there.

At home he cries.  A lot.  I administer paracetamol and a lemonade iceblock.  He curls up on the couch and shudders.  He won't drink, he won't get in the shower.  His temp doesn't move.  I make him drink some hydrolite by telling him it's juice.  He'll always drink juice.  I attempt to pu the baby down for a sleep but she laughs in my face, sleep!  Who needs it?!  I tell Mushroom it's ok if he does want to have a sleep but he says he feels too sick.

The boy wants constant cuddles, the baby wants boob.  I'm dealing with a clingy sick preschooler and an overtired maniac of a baby.

Thankfully Juffin gets home relatively early and right on cue there is spew.  I can't deal with spew.

He puts Mushroom in the shower to rinse off and I clean up.  Please God, I pray, please let there be no more spew.

I put the TV on and we have cuddles on the couch.  Juffin has an optical appointment.  I am mad but try not to show it.  Of all nights, honestly.  I try to feed Molly and cuddle Mushroom but it's not working.  I jump in the shower with Molly and start the process of putting her to bed.  Max is in his pjs and he's ready but wants to wait for Dad. We administer more drugs to try and bring his temp down as he's still burning up.  He says his head hurts inside his noggin.

I am worried.  His temperature doesn't seem to be moving and I don't know what to do.  I'm bracing for an emergency room dash and keep thinking we're in for a big night.  For once, luck is on our side, and we get off relatively scott free.  Mushroom woke around 3.30am with temperatures still soaring but on wake up this morning he is fine!  He's eating, he's laughing, his temperature is fine.... Seriously, WTF?  What's with kids and their mysterious illnesses that just appear and then disappear just as quickly?!

Last night it took 2 hours to get my daughter to sleep.  She had had 20 minutes sleep from 2pm to 8pm.  Seriously.  That's fucked. This morning she's had 20 minutes from 7.30 to 12.30.  Again. Fucked.  At least she's not crying.

She thinks she can crawl already which is probably why she can't sleep.  Too many things going on in her little brain.

Slow down baby girl.

And just because it's been a week since I finished my antibiotics, left boob is sore again.  So you know, time for another Doctor's visit.

I promise the next post will be more positive.  Hopefully I'll find a million dollars in a shoebox buried in the backyard and all my problems will be solved!

/All smiles this morning

Just OK

Today is R U OK day.  I hope you guys are doing OK.

I really struggled with writing this post because I haven't really been doing that well.  I mean I'm ok,  But just.  My stress levels have been increasing for a while now and I've really worked myself up into knots about it and I feel like it's making me ill.

I have been on antibiotics twice in the last six weeks for a blocked duct in my left breast.  I've had a bad cold in between this which I'm still recovering from and Molly caught it as well.  Juffin has had massive migraines, Mushroom has had a bad cough and both the kids have had conjunctivitis.

I can't blame daycare.  Mushroom only goes once a week now.

I just don't know why we can't seem to catch a break, and I feel like it's a bit my fault because I can't seem to stop worrying about our life and where we're heading.

In a nutshell, our financial situation has changed drastically in the last few months and our access to free childcare will cease shortly as well... I know, I know, we were very fucking lucky to have this available in the first place.  It makes such a massive difference.

I hadn't told anyone but we were considering increasing my maternity leave so I could take the next 12 months off and stay home with the kids.  This is our last child, Mushroom will be at school the year after.  I was, I am, enjoying being home with the kids despite the challenges that an almost 4 year old presents on a daily basis.  This is no longer a possibility.  Not only that, but I'm also wondering whether I can continue to work part-time or not as we'll be paying for full days of daycare for two children despite me only working 5 hours a day 4 days a week.  Living on one wage is no longer an option.

Here I am, tying myself in knots, wishing that we'd done so many things differently.  I have even felt guilty for having another child, having children in general, which is fucking awful.  I can't stop thinking that if we're struggling so much at this age, what kind of life are we going to give our kids.

We don't own a home.  We can't afford to go on holidays.  Some weeks it's my turn to shout coffee for the girls and I have a mini panic attack because I may only have $13 in the bank account.  Yes, you read that correctly, $13.  I make it work and shuffle things around and at the present moment, we are not broke but we're on a pretty tight budget.  There's no surplus.  I need surgery and despite having health insurance, we can't afford the bloody excess or out of pockets.

There are so many things to be grateful for, our general good health, a job to go back to, a roof over our head, food on the table, but at 2am when I'm breastfeeding and it's quiet and dark, I worry and worry and worry, turning myself inside out and stewing over every detail.  What if this were different, what if we did this, what if we did that, but the reality is, it doesn't matter because we didn't and this is our life now.

I know that in the end we'll be alright.  Juffin's university studies, though it will be years before he finishes, will mean a significant change to our family income.  He's working so hard, so many late nights, and I'm so grateful for his dedication and his ability to keep getting up out of bed in the morning and go to work despite being up studying until all hours.

This is my reality right now.  Stress, anxiety, a dodgy left boob....  I'm sorry this post isn't funnier but sometimes I'm just not funny (Juffin would say that I'm never funny but, meh, men). If you've run into me over the last couple of months, you may have noticed that I've been a little off, not as perky as I am usually.  I'm trying, I really am but I want you guys to know that life isn't perfect.  You can't put a filter on feeling shitty and make it OK.  Despite all our challenges, we're still here.  And, for the most part, I'm still smiling.  At the end of the day, I know that we'll make whatever situation work.  We have to.  That's life.  And we're luckier than most.

See, still smiling 

Disclaimer: I don't suffer from depression, but I have in the past and I know when I need to seek help.  This isn't one of those times.  I am actually OK, just stressed and worried and tired.  And that's not a good combo.  If any of you are really not OK, please let someone know.  I'm here to listen if you need.

Supermarket

Remember when people used to be nice?  Smile at each other?  Assist if you needed help?

What happened?

Have we become so obsessed with ourselves, with our own stupid meaningless crap that we can't be nice to other people doing their bloody food shopping?

Today I visited my local big name supermarket.  It's always busy.  The carpark is a schmozzle.  I always park further away because you know what, it's 5 metres?  I'll survive.

Upon entering the supermarket there is that weird moment where people are exiting and entering at the same door and everyone is pushing and shoving.  I get inside and a lady walks in front of me to get a trolley.  After waiting, patiently, for her to retrieve the small trolley I get my trolley.  As the lady walked past me she apologised for taking so long, it's fine, I said, you didn't take long at all.  I smiled.  She gave me an odd look.

Inside the supermarket I was shoved out of the way by a rude woman trying to get to the bananas.  I was also looking at the bananas but guess what lady?  There's a whole bloody display of bananas and no-one is standing on the other side.  I moved.  She didn't even acknowledge me.

At the meat fridge I stand back and look at the fridge from the other side of the aisle.  You know, so people can walk past and you don't take up the whole lane.  Apparently this isn't the way that you do things.  Apparently you just stand directly in front of someone as they are clearly looking into the meat fridge and block their view. As a result I then have to move as the aisle is clogged and nobody else can walk past.  I then stand and wait as all the other customers walk past.  I am still smiling.  Finally meat lover moves on and I can finally make my selection.

In the laundry aisle it happens. My smile is becoming brittle.

In the chocolate aisle it happens again.

I see an adorable baby and I smile at the baby.  Baby is happy.  Baby is smiling.  We trade grins for a while and then the mother catches me and gives me a 'what the fuck are you looking at my baby for' look.  Geez lady.  I was just smiling with the kid, I'm not going to steal him!

My smile has now disappeared. I'm mostly grimacing.  Grimacing because people are chumps and also because my front hiney is sore and feels like there's a bowling ball sitting in between my legs.

People keep pushing in front of me, knocking my trolley, standing in front of items and chatting whilst I'm clearly waiting to get items off the shelf.  There's an angry vibe.  People are rushing and impatient and annoyed.  It's making me sad.  That and the whole bowling ball thing.

I know grocery shopping is shit but fark people, it's not like it's hell!  It's hell outside!  It's literally hotter than Hades and here we are, chillin in the free AC, wandering up and down listening to early nineties pop, and looking at food.  Food!  Food is love people!  What could be better than that?  If supermarkets wanted to improve people's moods perhaps they could start handing out cocktails upon entry!  That or ice-cream.  Marketing genius!  Maybe then people would stop being such a-holes!

I am now vowing to continue my online shopping experience.  I just ran out of washing powder today and thought I'd do the whole lot at once. Dick move Jess.

Despite having to visit hells gateway, I managed to stay within budget!  Kudos to me!  My pantry and freezer are looking frickin awesome right now and I'm feeling pretty pleased with my budget sticking-ness skills.

On a side note, does anyone know how you can use your flybuy vouchers to get your extra points if you do the online thing?  I like getting my 1000 bonus points!!

These ones?  Anyone?  Anyone?  Anyone?  

Budget

Hi, my name is Jessica and I'm shit with money.

There, I said it.

I bemoan our lack of funds ALL. THE. DAMN. TIME. But the sad reality is that we have plenty of money. We just waste it.  On crappy take out, on coffee's, on other bloody useless shit and I have no idea where it goes!  What are we doing wrong?  How can this and this equal minus this?

So I write things down.  You know, on paper, because I'm over 30 and that's how I roll.  It looks great.  Things add up.  We should have enough money to pay all our bills and save some as well... except we don't.

We have an amazing account with QCCU that makes sure all our bills are paid. I pay the rent on time, childcare, petrol in cars... I grab a few things at the supermarket.  I grab a coffee, a sandwich, buy a shirt from KMart and suddenly there's $2.47 in the account and I have no idea what happened.  I'd blame Juffin but honestly, we're both totally shit.  Me mostly.  There is no-one to blame but myself.

So heading into maternity leave for the second time, I thought it best to plan a little bit.  You know, because we have lots of time left for financial planning... ahem.  I told you, I'm shit.  We have made the decision that I'll take my maternity leave at half pay so I'll be able to stay home longer with Baby Beet and the Mushroom.

I work 20 hours per week.  That means I'll be getting paid 20 hours per fortnight.  For 16 weeks.

Good God.  What have I done?!

I know, I know. I'm a melodramatic lunatic.  Of course it can be done.  People live on a hell of a lot less.  And it's not like I'll be spending up big whilst stuck on the couch with a toddler whingeing at my feet and a baby stuck to my chest will I?

To facilitate our lean weeks ahead, I've started grocery shopping online so we can stick to budget and get the freezer and pantry all stocked up.  It's been two weeks and I don't think my pantry has ever been this full of food!  I'm aiming to spend about $150 a week now to prepare for the apocalypse and I do my own version of meal planning so sticking to a food budget should be fine... famous last words.

I will be packing the Juffin a lunch box (I do not do this already because he's a grown ass man but seriously?!) and he will be banned from buying sushi and subway for the foreseeable future.

My pantry.  Yes.  It's a mess. I like it that way and I can find everything.

I've re-stocked all my cloth nappies and wipes, which was expensive but will save us thousands in the long run, disposables cost a bloody fortune!  In this instance, I'm grateful for the age gap as the Mushroom is mostly toilet trained and I cannot even imagine having to wash double the amount of nappies!  I don't want to jinx myself, but hopefully breastfeeding is as easy as it was last time around.

I'm trying to put a few bucks extra away now but I can't help feeling like it's too little too late.  I know that the old adage 'the more you have, the more you spend' is true so I guess we'll be forced into not spending because we literally won't have anything to spend.  If we can do this, then there's no reason why we can't finally get fucking married and buy a damn house!

Aside from the above, I'm open to tips, suggestions, advice.  I have reviewed all of our insurances recently and can't save any money there but I could use practical, workable ideas to save some dough.

On an unrelated note, I found a pram that I really REALLY REALLY NEED TO HAVE!  It's second hand.  It's in great condition.  It's less than a year old.  It's all I ever dreamed of in a pram.... But it's $400!!  Where can I find $400?  Will someone buy it for me?  Should I set up a gofundme account?  If everyone who reads my blog bought me a piece of that pram for $2, then I'd only have to pay for half...

The above is a joke.

Sort of.

I actually considered begging you guys for money.

I can't sell that many cupcakes.

But I would make you food if you did.

No seriously.  Don't do that....