A question of time.

1st Shoes and 1st School Shoes of My Beautiful Boy

I don't handle stress well.

Last week was particularly stressful.
My eldest started school on Monday. I did not cry as much as I thought I would. I shed a few tears while ironing his little shirts and when I put him to bed. But at least he is excited to go and I can pick him up after school. It will be when he leaves home one day, that I think the real tears will come. I will probably look back then, as I have now, and wonder where all the time went.

My little boy has come a long way since we first moved here. He did not handle the immigration well, but  with time he has settled. He is happy and has the cutest Aussie twang. (Even though until now he spent most of his time with me. Too much TV I guess.)

A loved one threatened to commit suicide. And take her ex with her. Two years after her divorce has not been enough time to get over the hurt.

My 20 month old fractured his wrist. His cast should come off in about 2 weeks. In that time, the bone will have repaired enough. Amazing how fast ones body heals in comparison to ones mind.

And, we lost a friend who was being a good Samaritan, helping a stranger change a tyre, when a truck drove into him. Who knows how much time it will take for that family to heal.

Being an anxiety sufferer, these things kind of rock my world. The questions never stop.
How much time do I really have with my loved ones?
How long before I can stop being so tired and annoyed with my children because I'm tired?
How can I love my family less, so that if anything happens to them, I will not be too hurt?
What are the things I can put into place to have more control.

After all, that is the reason we came to Australia. I felt like I needed more control over my family's safety. The best way to do that, was to leave. But I realise more and more that any control I think I have is merely an illusion.

It's the craziness of the questions that bothers me most. The endless guilt over feeling like a failure as a mom because I just don't have the patience I should. And then the worry that I would be devastated if something were to happen to them and I've just spent the whole day fighting with them.

Time. I don't want to waste it. And yet I spend so much time worrying and obsessing over it.

Being a mom in SA was a lot easier. It was far less stressful. I could commit all my time to my kids while my house was being cleaned by the house keeper. And when they were difficult, before I could lose it, I could ask her to watch them while I went out for a coffee. I had some time to myself.

Now, I have to constantly divide myself between my housework and three young, demanding kids with absolutely no time to myself. I find I am starting to really suck at this mother thing.

And yet, the most important thing I can give them is my time. That's all we have really. And it is precious. We do not know how much we have left. I can never get this time back with my kids.

When am I going to be able to live anxiety free? I hope it's just a question of time.