Sorry

The storm has passed and I now regret having had a rant publically. My husband came off worst and I feel awful. It's not his fault I'm overwhelmed.

This is a fairly typical sight each morning (they're probably watching 'Hey Dougee'!) and I'm sorry I portrayed his support as anything less than round the clock devotion.

Neither of us have enough time or energy to do something for ourselves each day. We're both bogged down with toddler tantrums, potty training, poo-ey nappies, 3am feeds, tired infants, work (paid or unpaid), cooking and cleaning. We both miss running when we want, lie ins, popping out for a quick pint and having a bath in peace. I was too busy thinking about how hard it is and I forgot he's in it too.

Sorry x


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Holly Hustle - Holly shuffle

So the Hustle started well - the technical descent through the woods to Meanwood park was exhilarating and I got up some good speed.  As we went parallel to the stream I eased up into a nice pace but felt out of sorts. I managed to keep running for the next 15 minutes but as we descended down through to the bottom of the park & along the duck board bridge I felt tired. I started to walk. I kept running and walking, thinking that I'd walk as much as I needed and run when I could. The walking sections increased and it was harder and harder to run. My tummy felt sore, I needed the loo and I really needed a drink.

I'd had a headache the night before and dodgy tummy in the morning. I'd been encouraged to have a slice of toast but couldn't stomach much more than a glass of water & a cup of black tea.

Just before half way I decided to give it up as a bad job and started back for the finish - good job I new the area! I was proud of myself for deciding to turn back - it felt right, going on would have been an insult to injury. Safe as to say I spent the rest of the day in bed and bottle fed the little one.

There is always next year.

4 months, 6 miles & trapped

It was Little One's 4 month birthday this week and the start of a new month which marks upping my long run. I'm a bit nervous and I think he senses it because as I write this he's staring at me, it's quite unnerving!

Even though I'm not fit enough to race there's a 6.8 mile trail race that's got a good name - Holly Hustle! I missed it last year because I was too pregnant but I've no excuse this year! I'll try to feed just before I go and be back within 4 hours.

The 4 hour feeding regime is a challenge but I'm sticking it to it in the hope I'll get more sleep soon. The toddler was poorly this week and Little One wasn't sleeping well so I was back to feeling fragile and the littlest thing made me cry.

The intensity of looking after such young children, most of the time by myself, has made me feel trapped. Before I had the second we (the toddler and I) would do something in the morning and during her afternoon nap I would have time to myself. Since the second one coming I've lost the afternoon nap because he doesn't settle very well yet. Last week I could feel the frustration building up and by Sunday I wanted to scream. I had made some attempts to talk about how I felt but didn't feel like anyone was listening.

I went running. The woods were really therapeutic; the sun shone, it was quiet & I was alone.

I jogged, walked, sobbed and sang Roxy Music, Love is the drug (substituting 'love' for 'running'). I thought about how Little One could survive without me now he takes a bottle. I thought about how unfair it was that my husband can have a lunch break and take himself off for a run without having to arrange childcare. I wondered about going back to work.

I realised a few things:

• I wanted my body back for some part of the day
• I wanted someone else to take full responsibility for the children for some part of the day
• I want to do something for me each day

I was annoyed at myself for not spotting the warning signs of the implosion. I decided to plan how I wanted to go forward and felt loads better for it. 

Over the last week we've made changes to our routine - practical things like my husband doing a formula feed at 11pm so my body is mine from 7pm-3am and my husband taking turns to settle Little One through the night. I've felt loads better and, apart from a quickly remedied relapse this weekend, have been sticking to the plan. So far so good!

Now on to the Holly Hustle...eek!