You Win Some You Lose Some!

This week has probably been the toughest yet in my new career as a Mum. Baby has been sick, really sick for the last 6 days and nothing I could do or say would help. I have new found respect for families who have really ill children all the time, how exhausting and how dedicated the parents must be. After just 6 days I feel completely battle weary, I cannot stand to hear another whine, change another set of clothes, be hit, clean up snot covered mess or cook anymore tempting meals to have them thrown onto the floor in disgust.

My biggest mistake to make, as always, and one I constantly do, is to put adult human emotions onto my little baby. He has never coughed before, had a chest so full of gunk he cant breathe or a headache and achingly dry lips. Even though all of this is new to him, I get frustrated that he wont do what is best for him. Why does he not just sit quietly with me and read a book, why does he need to pull everything out of the cupboard and then slam the door on his hand? Why does he need to throw his head back in rage against the wall until finally he gives it such a crack he ends up howling. These are his ways of expressing his dismay in feeling so terrible, but to me they seem an addition to an already highly demanding and stressful situation, of the all consuming sick toddler.

Being a stay at home mum means I have had no respite all week, not wanting to lurgy any of my friends and not up to play dates we have spent hours inside, him slowly getting better, while I got iller with said cold and more exhausted from night screaming (him not me!). I have found the constant demands  physically hard, but hey I'm a strong cookie, its the unexpected mental drain of not being able to do anything right, in fact doing everything wrong and no reward for a long day apart from a still fractious and ill baby.

In my previous life I have always been able to control situations, work wise I liked nothing better than chairing a meeting and making decisions (ask my department!) and in training thrived on a dedicated and demanding schedule. But here I am now, melted down to the bare bones of me, nothing to show for my week, but a son who has now turned a corner and is happily out shopping with Dad and me a frazzled, worn out and cranky mummy!

That's the hardest thing, I think I have probably worked harder this week than in any of my working weeks or training units and I have nothing to show. I feel a sense of guilt that I haven't really achieved anything this week or been a particularly good wife and lets not lie, we all like praise and recognitions, but none will be coming my way. The only person to say thank you for that, you did an OK job (debatable!) is me.  And so, I will.

Gone are the days when I had trophies and targets to show my talents but I have a family, a medal so special, yet so demanding that only those lucky enough to also have this gift in life will understand. I'm beginning to understand  you don't need the thanks, you don't need to prove you are a worthwhile being by being a high achiever, you just need to know in your heart, when the going got tough you did the best you did and it all worked out in the end.

All quiet on the running front....

So radio silence needs to be broken.

This is the first time I have sat down at my laptop properly for 3 months. I just havent been able to face it. Just been too sick, too tired and too depressed. So unlike my normal self and so draining when accompanied by a cheery 14 month old companion. Reason being....I am expecting another baby! 'Hurrah' I hear you shout.....'Crikey  those two will be close!' Gulp, yes they will, but hey so many positives can be drawn from having a close sibling, I am testamant to that. Who needs sleep and rest when you can just be surrounded by babies 24/7!

I have been hit with mindblowing morning sickness (a term clearly defined by a man as I have been sick all hours of the day), it really has been truely the worse few months of my life, the delight of being pregnant again has only just eclipsed the terrible all encompassing sickness which has left me weeping, weak and wobbly everyday for weeks on end. However the cloud seems to have passed and though I still feel the occasional clutch of nausea I have suddenly come back into the real world and am able to begin living again rather than just surviving.

So running has taken a miserable back seat.....funnily enough the last time I ran properly was my 100mile week in Scotland when I didnt know I was pregnant and since then have only managed a handful of 5kms, not just because I was so sick, but for the first time in my life running actually made me feel worse. So unlike the me of old I listened to my body and have just 'let it go' allowing my body to channel all its energy into creating a new little being and allowing my hormones free rein to run wild!

I am now itching to get back moving again which I think is always the sign to get going again. Running comes easy to me and even after a 10 week break I managed an easy 5 miles and then 7 miles at the weekend. I keep my heart rate below 150 which means running painfully slowly, biting back my competitive instinct and the temptation to power up hills and take on that random male runner who always has a point to prove. But as with last pregnancy I have lost the will to push myself to the limit..'doing' exercise is enough, bit of fresh air, bit of a sweat on and that will do.

And now second time around....there is no time off, no sneaky lunchtime swims, no nanny naps (well a few!). I am exhausted running around after baby who is in the prime of life as a toddler - the no fear, maximum danger phase. But it is also a super fun phase, he is interacting, popping out the odd word - 'Burleeeeeease' when he wants some of my snacks and 'ball' which of course had both Dad and I glowing with pride!

So I will do my best knowing that coming out of this pregnancy it might take a bit longer to get fit again. To keep me dreaming I have set some big goals for 2013 including a gold medal which still eludes me and on my slow plods I imagine now not one mini cheer leader, but two, shouting their Mum on and longing to get away so they can go and play football!