2015: when life before became so quickly forgotten


2015 was the year of pregnancy, birth and becoming a Mother. Whilst I’m sure I did many other things in between I’m so desperately trying to remember what they were. Another cliche come true. You just can’t seem to remember quite what life before your baby was like but you somehow on occasion yearn for it – a quiet cup of coffee just the two of you in bed, Instagram-worthy breakfast, lunch and dinner; just one minute passing without worrying about something. A clutter free living space. A quiet, peaceful mind. Life is so much tougher yet far more wonderful. How does that work?

There was my study, of course, and I’m excited to be getting back to the books in January. My return to college is so dreadfully timed with the much talked about four month sleep regression so quite how this will pan out, we’ll have to see. I’ll no doubt feel forever conflicted about packing my baby off to nursery for two days a week but completing my qualification feels like a means to a better end for all three of us.

I’ve worried a lot, eaten pretty dreadfully and shed a lot of tears but I’ve genuinely had such a great time in between those bumps in the road. The dust has settled somewhat which leaves me feeling rather positive about 2016. A year of so many much anticipated firsts – birthdays, family holidays, perhaps some little steps? Again, it seems all about her, not me, but it certainly comes with the territory.

Perhaps I’ll worry less. That would be really nice. I’m determined to eat a little better, breathe a little deeper (2015 was a brilliant year for yoga, after all) and if I can find one little moment a day for taking stock in a bid to keep some of that worry at bay I’ll be onto a winner.

Every day, every week, every month with a small person brings with it such major milestones and not just for the little one rolling over, finding her voice or wrapping her arms round Mummy and Daddy. The family dynamic is constantly evolving, relationships changing sometimes for better, sometimes for worse. As I become a better mother I feel like a worse wife. So many roles to play. We’ve both committed to helping one another try a little harder.

So as I write this I’ve dug my trusty juicer out of the loft. There’s room for both the baby bottle steriliser and the things that make me happy on that kitchen worktop. You just have to do a bit of juggling to find that wiggle room. Once those greens are pressed I’ll raise that much yearned for glass of goodness to 2016. The year of having a better handle on things and a very different way of living.

I’m looking forward more than ever to sharing this year with each of you.