Whenever I find myself in a situation where I don’t know what to do and my emotions feel all upside down, I always try to remember to move in the direction of relief.
It’s a principle I learnt from Abraham-Hicks, who I used to listen to and read like the Bible – back in those days when I had unlimited time to listen to and read many things! But it’s one that’s stuck because it works for me…
I don’t know anyone who isn’t busy… Do you? It’s odd, because I should know people who aren’t busy – I know people who are retired or who don’t work or who work flexi time specifically so that they won’t be busy. But they are.
It seems we’ve all collectively bought into a cult of busy that says that unless your days are full and somewhat frantic, you’re not contributing fully to society. I don’t know when exactly this became our collective truth, but I don’t think it has to be this way.
One of the things I like most about being a Mom is how it cuts through all the differences. No matter where you’re from or what you look like or what you do for a living, if you have a child who’s a similar age to mine, we have a lot in common. It’s the same with diabetes: if I see someone testing their blood sugar or pulling out an insulin pen, I immediately know a whole lot about their lives.
That’s why this beautiful TV ad appeals to me so much.
I don’t know if it’s because nobody told me, or because I didn’t hear them, but I did not anticipate being needed so much. I mean, I knew that I would be needed to feed my children – first breastfeed them and then teach them to eat solids and then make snacks and lunch and dinner. I knew I would be needed for cuddles – when they’re sad or have an owie I need to kiss better or when it’s bedtime and they need some love. I knew I would be needed for all the practical stuff – making sure life runs as smoothly as possible for them without them needing to see all the million little things I juggle in the background. If you don’t have kids, I hope this seems like a lot already! I thought it did. I was wrong.
Hear me out. I have not lost my marbles, at least not yet, but I am finding that Google Maps is an effective mindfulness tool. While driving. Often in traffic. Here’s how…
Before this week, I hadn’t really had to explain diabetes to Arthur. He knows I take injections (“jabs”) and he knows he can’t touch my glucometer kit and he can only put the lid on my insulin pen if I hold it out to him. But apart from that he hasn’t seemed too interested in my chronic condition. Until this week.
I read an article last week on Medium about the Pomodoro Technique. It was an okay-ish article, but I loved the technique it explained, because I think it could actually help me become significantly more productive. Of course, on searching for Pomodoro on Medium, I see there are about 100 articles about it. So let me distill it for you…
Most of the time, to be honest, diabetes just feels like another part of daily life. Get up, test blood sugar, inject, shower, have a cup of tea… It’s all just part of what needs to be done every day. In fact, I often say that I forget I’m diabetic between meals, because it infringes so little on how I feel every day. But then there are the other days.
If you were to look at my Instagram feed, you would think that parenting is one constantly joyous trip, full of adorable toddler moments and sweet baby smiles. And that’s because when I’m engaged in the other side of parenting – trying to reason with a small person who knows no reason, trying to settle a baby who does not want to nap no matter how nicely I ask – my phone is nowhere near and I don’t have the mental headspace to step back and snap a pic. Also, I would like to remember all the sweet moments and I’m actively looking forward to the blurring of memory for the deeply frustrating ones.
(For anyone who doesn’t know about the joy of treat yo’self, please do yourself a favour and watch Parks and Recreation. So. damn. funny.)
I realised the other day that I find it difficult to remember Life Before Kids. Heavens, I even find it difficult to remember life before two kids – or at least, before the pregnancy which started right around this time last year.
