Finding our rhythm again feels like Mission: Impossible (Picture: Sarah Whiteley)
Sitting down at my laptop, I took a deep breath.
It was the day I’d been dreading – the day when my husband Tom and I were back at work after the Christmas holidays, my eldest child, Theo, six, was returning to school and our youngest, Immy, four, was in nursery.
It signalled the return to our busy mornings of brushing teeth and making sure everyone ate enough breakfast – and thankfully that had all gone to plan.
In fact, I was exceeding my expectations. In my lunch hour, I’d gone on the two-mile run I’d promised myself I would, and Tom and I had even managed to make a super-quick spaghetti Bolognese for tea – which was good, because we only had half an hour after finishing work at 5pm to get the family fed before Tom took Theo out to his swimming lesson at 5.30pm.
‘It’s fine,’ I told myself, as Tom took his laptop into the living room to go on a meeting. ‘It’s all going to plan.’
Within minutes, I absorbed myself back into work. So much so that I jumped when Tom poked his head around the dining room door. ‘What’s that smell?’ he asked, his nose crinkling.
Suddenly, I could smell it too. Burning. ‘The Bolognese!,’ I yelped, jumping up and racing to the kitchen.
There is no denying that life is incredibly – sometimes unbearably – busy (Picture: Sarah Whiteley)
Looking down at the hob, I could’ve cried. The whole bottom layer of the mince was stuck to the saucepan.
‘It’s fine,’ Tom reassured me, seeing my look of dismay. ‘The top bit’s OK, I’ll just scoop that off now and you’ll never been able to tell.’
The thing is – as is usually the case in these situations – it wasn’t just the fact that dinner was spoiled.
As Tom set about salvaging our evening meal and I slowly returned to my desk, I felt completely overwhelmed.
As if I was on a treadmill that set to a pace just a little bit too fast for me. Most of the time, if I tried really, really hard and gave everything in me, I could just about keep up. But if I slowed down for just a fraction, or took my eye off the ball for a second, the chances were, I’d fall off and crash land.
It was a feeling that had been looming ever since I’d become a parent and had only become more impending since the children started nursery. And now Theo was at school, in moments like this, it became suffocating.
I felt completely overwhelmed (Picture: Sarah Whiteley)
Keeping up with our jobs and their various deadlines, ensuring the children were where they meant to be when they were meant to be there, paying bills on time, replying to party invitations by the RSVP dates, trying to make sure we all had a relatively balanced diet, that Tom and I squeezed in some exercise, trying to find the time and energy to see friends… we often joked, as we collapsed into bed, that there simply aren’t enough hours in the day.
I can already hear you say it. I am well aware that this was exactly what I signed up for when we decided to have children. And please, take for granted, that yes, I know just how lucky I am to have two healthy and happy children and no, I would never be without them. Not for a second.
And I’m certainly no snowflake. I’ve had a job ever since the weekend after my 16th birthday and am not afraid of working hard.
But there is no denying that life is incredibly – sometimes unbearably – busy. I have long given up on scribbling down to-do lists simply because I can’t waste my precious seconds.
And I’m far from alone in feeling like this. A survey in September last year by the charity Unicef UK discovered that millions of parents are struggling with their mental health, with 49% saying that they had felt overwhelmed in the last year.
I’m only surprised that the figure isn’t higher.
The thing is, once I’m in full swing of a term, we seem to stumble along just fine. Yes, the odd thing gets missed. I had to take myself off to the toilets for a quick cry of disappointment when we arrived at Immy’s Christmas dance show and we were the only parents to have forgotten her festive jumper. But we manage.
Yet, as soon as we step out of the rat race, like when we go on holiday or, like now, come back after a school break, finding our rhythm again feels like Mission Impossible.
More from Platform
Platform is the home of Metro.co.uk’s first-person and opinion pieces, devoted to giving a platform to underheard and underrepresented voices in the media.
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After decades battling a stammer following childhood trauma, things reached a breaking point for Jonathan Blair, who had been so ashamed of his speech impediment that he hadn’t even told his wife about his condition.
For the whole afternoon, I felt tearful and a dull headache across my forehead. No matter how many times I told myself it was just a silly mistake, the truth was, I felt like I’d failed. On my first day back to real life.
My own Blue Monday had, it turned out, come early.
It was only when I finally closed my laptop and Theo and Immy came bursting through the front door, Theo clutching a cardboard box that was apparently a plane he’d made and Immy a picture of a dinosaur that I smiled properly again.
‘Mammy, we played Stick in the Mud today and I ran really fast,’ Theo chattered, as he shovelled the spaghetti Bolognese – covered with a thick layer of grated cheese – into his mouth.
I held my breath. But rather than spitting it out, he swallowed it down, gave me a big smile, then grabbed another forkful.
The bad days make the good days seem even better (Picture: Sarah Whiteley)
‘We searched for treasure out in the garden,’ Immy beamed. ‘And I found some!’
As I listened to their excited little voices, my headache eased as I realised that no, life isn’t always perfect. There are always going to be rubbish days. Days where we burn dinner or the dishes don’t get done or things get forgotten.
But does it really matter? The kids certainly don’t think so. In fact, most of these things, they barely even notice.
They don’t need a perfect mum. They just need a mum who does her best and gives them her attention and love. Things I’m always going to be more than willing to hand over to them in abundance.
So to any other parents out there, let’s make, an admittedly late, New Year’s resolution. To be a bit easier on ourselves. To learn to breathe through the overwhelming moments and write off the bad days.
After all, they only make the good days seem even better.
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No matter how many times I told myself it was just a silly mistake, the truth was, I felt like I’d failed.