The Missing Piece

At baby yoga we start off each week with a few words on how we're feeling. It's supposed to be brief but you all know I don't do brief so I just said I've had several epiphanies this week without elaborating.

The first of these was while Cyril was doing a puzzle. He sat down and became frustrated because he needed one more piece but the only piece he had left didn't belong, it got mixed in with the puzzle somewhere along the way, and no matter how hard he tried to make it fit the piece wouldn't, it just became more damaged around the edges.

This is how I feel much of the time. The giant puzzle representing England and I'm the tiny piece that got mixed in along the way. I've tried to fit in the best I can but each time I step away from who I truly am I become a little bit damaged.

Going with this line of thinking I began to question a lot of things namely that I'm not meant to fit in at all. Perhaps I can bring something to the table just by being that eccentric American mama that got washed up in Cumbria somehow. But who am I?

There's only been one other time in my life when I'd felt as though I no longer knew who I was, that was after a difficult break up. I'd given so much to the relationship and tried to morph myself in such a way, that in the end I was only the shell of a human being. I felt so lost in that moment but out of that feeling grew my true self, I did a lot of soul searching, only participated in things I truly enjoyed, and when I felt as though I finally knew who I was as a person I met Josh.

Fast forward 11 years and here I am lost again. Not because of a difficult relationship, but because of this big thing called motherhood. The trouble with being a full time mama is that you well and truly lose yourself to that role, and with so few stay at home parents around these days, it's difficult to explain to someone that goes back to work just how difficult a role this is. Not because you are faced with daily battles over which knife your toddler wants you to use, or what type of nappy is best to use at night,  but because it can be a lonely job. There are few adults to talk to and when you give everything to these tiny humans 24/7 there is little left to give to anyone else, never mind yourself.

My brother gets it, he well and truly does. He's a stay at home parent like I am. At Christmas I felt like my stars had aligned with his. When his son refused to stop touching the electric candle and he gave him the look, I was right there with him. When Cyril threw another tantrum because he was overtired we exchanged glances, we both knew the feeling. We even talked about how lonely a role it was we were playing.

So when I try to morph my current life into the person I used to be it just doesn't fit, I become a little more damaged, a bit heart broken and a bit lost, just like that little owl in Cyril's favourite book. Maybe I need to stop morphing, maybe I need to look at my life through fresh eyes, do a little bit of soul searching and my true self will shine through again.

As I sit here rocking my sick little Sage to sleep, her tiny hand grasping onto my shirt I know one thing, this big thing called motherhood suits me perfectly. I was born to be a mother, and although many days are long and hard just as many are fulfilling and rewarding. I don't always get to do what I want, or enjoy a hot drink for that matter, but somehow I feel like I'm living the best days of my life right now.

As for not fitting in quite right with England, I haven't quite figured that one out yet, and maybe I'm not meant to, perhaps I was always meant to stand out a little bit from the crowd.