A mother’s guilt

Earlier today, I felt guilty… oh that awful mother guilt, when you feel ‘free’.  After 3 weeks of intense round the clock childcare, I decided I needed a day.  I needed a day free of nerf war, ‘get off the i-pad arguments’, brother fight refereeing and lunch negotiations.

 

Does the guilt ever leave you?

 

As I pruned the roses and stripped back the dead lillies and tended to my beautiful garden, I mentally gardened too.  I got rid of the dead thoughts that didn’t serve me, and let my thoughts float through my mind and felt the guilt fade…

 

As I drank a hot cup of tea, and spoke to architects and plumbers, decorators and continued checking off my list, the house felt so, so, so quiet.  No laughter, no singing, no secret whispers.

 

With the piles of holiday laundry diminished and bed sheet change overs completed, I felt very small in the basement utility room and a little lonely.

 

And then all of a sudden, the house was full and vibrant as the boys came home, full of energy and excitement, Perdi, the dog danced to see her favourite people and the Big Man walked in the door with the last member of our family, Percy.  Small and scared, he nestled in to the crook of my arm and clung to me as I showed him around his new home and mousing ground.

 

The only thing to bring him out from behind the fridge, has been the crazy Friday night dancing around our kitchen island and my guilt dissipates.  A day to myself didn’t hurt anyone.   And like my physical gardening, my mental gardening has left me with just a basket full full of beautiful blooms to share with the household.

 

 

 

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