Thank God for Yo-Yo Ma

You’re likely wondering, who is Yo-Yo Ma? Or if you know the genius cellist that is Yo-Yo Ma, perhaps you’re wondering why he is featured in my blog title? Have I suddenly strayed from health and wellness (this happened long ago) or parenting (this is my new health and wellness) topics? No, I just respect his mad genius and appreciate that he soothed my newborn to sleep and kept my toddler silent for 10 minutes this morning in the car, after much crying for all individuals in said car (mommy included).

It’s been a time. Between sickness (and I mean like pants-pooping sickness) for all living in my domicile, toddler sleep regressions, a brutally cold and snowy winter (like just end already) and general fatigue, I have been pushed to my maximum this past month. I also think my toddler is getting her 2-year molars as she continues to ask me to “kiss her her teeth better” (which I politely decline) and state “her mouth is itchy” (itchy is her word for hurting and, well, itchy).

Over the course of the last four weeks, I’ve noticed an acute change in my mood and mindset. While I may not be the most gentle of souls (thanks for that reminder today, mom), I am a fairly positive and upbeat person. I tend to see the good in people and the world generally – I thoroughly enjoy my life. And yet, recently I can’t escape the negative train. I can’t shed the gremlin on my shoulder when I’m out for my mood-clearing walks. I can’t find the motivation to get my yoga on or throw on the ol’ meditation soundtrack. I am not finding and feeling the joy in child rearing (and my little boy has some seriously mind-blowing smiles).

As I was sharing this with my husband last night, he reminded me that this happened with our daughter – mood, mindset, etc – around the three month mark. I was desperate to go back to work (which I’m fantasizing about now) and didn’t feel I could keep going. Odd, as we should be ending the 100 days of darkness (what we call the black hole in our abode). But perhaps, for me, the three month mark is when the sleep and social deprivation have finally amounted to something greater than I can bear (or so I think…I do manage to carry on…like so many other moms and dads).

So what am I going to do about it? Blogs should always have some hope at the end, shouldn’t they? I would love to end on a high, but I need to honour that right now I don’t have a tonne of “high” or solutions in my toolkit.

But I do have a little hope – something light(er) to end on because I know there are others out there in the black hole or just coming out of it. Or perhaps you’re 9-months out or 2 years…and you too, need a little hope to keep hanging on. So here it is: it gets better. I know this because I survived my first and it did get better – it actually got so much better. I know that the endless slog that is feeding, diapers, feeding, laundry, toddler tantrums, bath time, toy pick up, feeding and putting my kids to sleep will lighten and shift to something that is less tiring and more invigorating (or maybe it doesn’t with two…just kidding…I hope). Until then, I have help arriving next month (thank you, mom) and I will continue to find ways to facilitate some much needed me-time (perhaps this includes locking the bathroom door…no wait, my daughter will just bang on the door and scream…such serenity abounds).

Keep hanging on, parents. It does get better (I’m telling myself this as much as I’m hoping to instill hope in you). You got this.


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