Thinking about how much this motherhood caper has taught me in the past few years.
How much my perspective has changed and my reactions have mellowed.
How my habit of catastrophising events or issues has slowly subsided over the past three years.
How I can actually be flexible in all areas of my life - internally and not just on the surface.
I'm not entirely sure whether this taming of my rigid, irrational self is really due to the mummyness factor.
It could well be put down to aging, marriage, the craziness of my work life in the past two years, greater faith, recent tragedies that put things in perspective or just plain fatigue.
But these thoughts were part of a silent prayer that I will cope with whatever this little one within my belly throws my way. That I won't punish myself with unrealistic expectations and let anxiety dictate my days - or those looooong nights - this time around.
Then Hubby's company decided to drive the point home for me yesterday afternoon.
He lost his job.
Pretty much out of the blue.
The company is folding.
Obviously, my initial reaction began with "what the..."
We won't go into where that sentence went next.
But I was amazed by the sense of calm that followed immediately after.
It's not ideal.
By a long stretch.
The timing is terrible.
But I (finally, honey) have such trust in my husband.
He will fall on his feet.
He always has.
(And no amount of panic or ranting on my part has ever made one bit of difference to that.)
He's not too proud to work hard for a dollar and he will do what he can to support us.
He was lining up job interviews within thirty minutes of telling me yesterday.
We will do what we need to.
Whatever that entails.
This time four years ago, I spent much of my pregnancy with Magoo awake at night budgeting and stressing about how we would manage financially, among other things.
So, so, so many things!
This time around, we face going down to not just one income again, but possibly none - and I slept soundly last night.
I'm so grateful for the place that my boys have brought me to.
It's quite lovely here in the land of 'contentment'.
There's this deep seeded feeling (that may well turn out to be foolish ignorance!!) that nothing can truly destroy us.
That we'll be okay and we'll have each other regardless of what's happening outside of that.
That if 7.30pm finds the three of us (and a tiny one) snuggling on a single bed - then how can it not have been a good day?
It's a bit like a semi-permanent 'I just enjoyed a glass of wine in the afternoon sun' buzz - without the wine in the sun part.
(See, Mr. Bank Manager? Not scared. Not one bit.)
|I quite like this person he encourages me to see/be.|
It's like I've married my very own chill pill.