Happy New Mummy

No longer having the patience for jostling late nights and expensive drinks, DH and I saw in the New Year in our usual way: quietly, with a take-away and a bottle of wine. Over which, we talked about the past year and, in fact, all the past years: because New Year’s Eve is our anniversary and this naturally makes one feel rather indulgently reflective.

We’ve done some stuff in our eleven years together: lived in different countries, been on diverse holidays, done up a couple of houses, had countless different jobs, got married and of course, had two children. But looking back over the past year, I couldn’t help feeling slightly let down.

“I just feel like a whole year’s passed and I haven’t actually got anything to show for it” I said to DH after several glasses of wine. “I mean, what have I actually achieved this year?”.
“What do you mean?” he asked “you’re bringing up two happy, healthy children… and you’re doing a great job of it!” he replied.

Despite his reassurances, I still had the nagging feeling that I was merely treading water; barely managing to keep a lid on the chaos that was threatening to engulf me and on a personal level, not really getting to grips with all the things I had wanted to do and somehow never found the time to get around to.

Still, I felt decidedly smug the next day when, having woken to a beautifully snowy morning and glorious blue skies, all four of us made our way outside at 8.ooam for a pristine walk - well rested, full of anticipation and definitely not hung-over. And I decided then that this was going to be my year, a time to do more for myself and less for other people. A time to do all of those things I have been meaning to do for a long time (taking a writing course, finding the time to go running, learning to knit and generally making more stuff out of paper maché). To do lots of things that could be summed up with the resolution to Be More Selfish.

“Let’s play letters!” the Small Girl cried when we got home, running for the fridge where we had stuck her new magnetic letters (a Christmas stocking-filler).
“Good idea!” I said, and spelled out “Happy New Year”.
“What does it say Mummy?” asked the Small Girl.
“It says Happy New Year!” I explained.
“Oh! Now let’s write “Mummy”” she said, and I showed her how to spell the word.

The Small Girl took the “Y” away from “year” and asked:
“Now what does it say?”
“It says “Happy New ear!”” I replied, and we both giggled.

She moved the word “ear” away and pushed “Mummy” up into its place.
“Now what does it say?” she asked again, looking pleased with herself.
“Happy New Mummy!” I said, laughing. And, feeling tentative whisperings of hope, I scooped her up for a buoyant cuddle.