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| My eldest daughter enjoying her 'backyard' |
Yesterday I hung
out my washing on a clothesline - in my own backyard. It was such a triumph I did a little happy
dance with my eldest daughter as she handed me pegs. Later in the day we sat down for dinner (as a
family, around the table) with my husband home from work. To me, this deems our move a success – by the
measures I had in my head. It strikes me
now (and only now strangely enough) that these were seemingly ‘old fashioned’
goals – certainly by the way I have lived my life – and yet, that’s what they
are.
I don’t for a
minute expect that with these ‘boxes’ ticked my life will now be smooth
sailing. Nor has it been a smooth
journey from Singapore to get here.
Our first 2 weeks
in Australia were in fact awful. After
years of planning and dreaming of the day I would arrive ‘home’ with my husband
and girls (something I felt and indeed feel so proud of doing) we disembarked
the final flight of 3, after 36 hours travelling with a 3 year old fighting a
gastric bug and I honestly thought we would never recover. More than a week of jet lag then followed and,
most disheartening of all, a day of house hunting realizing that the Australian
dollar no longer goes as far as it did when I left 11 years ago – and that the
state of the local rental market meant that properties were unloved, unkept and
unattractive and yet ‘flying off the shelves’ as it were due to demand! I sat in a state of shock and wondered if the
decision to leave Singapore had been one of the worst I had made in my
life… whether it was anything but
disruptive to my whole family.
‘Coming home’ is a
funny thing. I’m not sure what I really
expected, but after years and years of thinking of this return – 4 of those
involving serious planning on the part of myself and my husband – it wasn’t what
I expected. Not even close.
I am very aware
that I have changed in my time away, but I failed to really understand that
everyone else had too – the city and the people. Life had gone on living – without me – and
I’m not sure I was too happy about it!
It seems strange, but I think I expected some fanfare – as much
excitement from my friends to see me back home as I felt to be here…
Possibly the
biggest surprise is just how much of a challenge moving and now caring for 2
little girls full time has been – and is.
So many women (and men) do it and seem to make it so easy. To say I struggled (and still do) is an
understatement. Two weeks ago my own mum
suggested that perhaps I should go back to work. I instantly took this to heart and felt as if
I couldn’t cope in my role as a mum.
Surely this should be something I relish…? And I do, but it’s so hard. My eldest daughter has been used to full time
nursery in Singapore and so has spent the last 8 weeks winding me to my
frazzled end and apparently morphing into one of those unruly children whose
parents I used to scorn in supermarkets.
What I have really struggled with is that it seems to unheard of to put
up your hand and say ‘I’m finding this really hard’.
And then something
shifted. We moved into our house (we
found a beautiful family home with a backyard amazingly in our price range) and
our ‘stuff’ arrived from Singapore which included my eldest daughter’s
treasured possessions including her ‘piglet’ toy who had been requested
continually over the last 8 weeks. And,
possibly most importantly my daughter also started nursery again on Monday –
two days a week where we both get our own space. She gets to go off and flex her independence
and I get to enjoy a bit of peace and some 1-1 time with my youngest.
The time has made
me aware of my reluctance (and maybe many other mums) to admit when things are
tough – particularly when it involves our kids.
Did I miss the gene that allows me to automatically blossom into
supermum when I had my first child?
Giving me a bottomless pool of patience?
Or, am I just a fairly regular mum, bumping into every day problems and
challenges that other mums are reluctant to talk about (whilst loving my
daughters with all my heart)?
Tonight I drove
home after picking my daughter up from nursery – the sky a mixture of dark
burnt pink and dusty blue – in my station wagon with my girls in the back – and
pulled into the driveway of my suburban home to get dinner on for the family
and I must confess (against all my feminist instincts) to feeling like I was
living the dream, but my ‘to do list’ includes tidying up my CV…
