My own internal dialogue

Do you know what’s exhausting?

It’s the constant internal questions, like a tape recorder inside my head.

My hands are tired carrying Ayman around as he breastfeeds on me whilst I tend to Zayan, who needs to pee now. Ayman is now settled and I put him down on his rocker. He woke up as I put him down and settles there whilst I wash the dishes. He starts to cry and I start rocking him (yes, using one leg).

“I shouldn’t rock him… but my hands are too tired and washing needs to be done. ok washing done. He’s happy to be rocked. I shouldn’t rock him. He’ll get used to it….

But I’m too tired to carry him….”

*continues rocking*

In the meantime, Zayan comes to me with his handmade sniper (made using those blocks that looks like lego but its not – forgot the brand). He is targeting me, with one eye peering out the back end of his ‘sniper’.

“Omigod, my son is going to grow up wanting to shoot people. Should I stop him. It’s harmless play, isn’t it? It’s what kids do. Pretty sure my brothers played like this as kids, and they’re pretty no-shooting-people normal.”

All these internal dialogue is exhausting. And I don’t think I’m that paranoid super-hygienic, new-mummy, all-organic with my kids. But I do have these thoughts in my head. I blame the society I’m in. Everything seems to be bad for the kids. I feel like I’m constantly guilty for not giving more time and attention to Zayan. At the same time, I think “Well, I’m sure my parents weren’t there all the time. They didn’t do arty crafty activities with me. They let me roam around and watched from afar. They’re more likely to sit in a corner and let us kids just do our thing. We were let to be bored and we grew up fine….”

Ok, I know everything in moderation and all that…. Too much of something will be bad for the kids.

Lotsa love, me

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