The Big D.


13920031_10153576428086008_1293112915568997234_oMummas coffee group the other day was one to say ‘see you later’ to our wonderful friend and her bubba who is not so bubba-ish anymore. Where did the time go? When did they evolve into toddlers?  God dam they grow so quick; the usual conversation between us these days.

I have weeping JD Salinger moments, Catcher in the Rye (Thanks year 13 English!) moments all too often. I want to freeze moments of amazement, keep that innocence still, bottle up the smelly deliciousness of our babies head (yup, she’s still a baby in my mind) and other times I want to tell the world ALL about her, gloat, puff out my chest and say, here is my baby (sweetheart..she’s 13…) isn’t she so fucking awesome?

Oops I’ve gone off topic. Kinda.

See, one of the themes in the catcher in the rye is for the main character; Holden, to hold the innocence of children, let them not be exposed to the uncontrollable influences of the outside world. That was a lot of uses of commas. Focus Jess.

We bought a new car. It’s pretty nice. I feel safe in it. It’s shiny. I turned up to coffee group driving the new shineyness. Also what else was shiny was my hair, I had washed it! Woohoo!

Toot toot!

We arrived. Mumma friend said “Ooooh new car! So shiny! And Look at you! You look so pretty today, with your sunglasses and your gorgeous baby (she might not have said that) and your cool clothes (I don’t think she said that either but I’ll throw it in there because I actually took my time to co-ordinate my outfit that day and was feeling fresh as F.). “You look like your all that, you got it going on Mumma”.

“Nahhhh thanks” *Cringe awkwardly*

Here’s the clincher moment…little did they know I was hiding the way I was feeling that day and that week and that month..I was dying inside. I was silently losing my shit. I was (and still am on days) wrestling with the big black bitch of a dog, the big D. No no, not fighting the rude big D as peeps these days say, you filth! The big D of d de dep …. depression.

Bllleeerrrrggghhhhh I said it, typed it actually. It’s awful. I feel yuk and bad and good and elated and high and low and all over the show. I love my life, I love my family, I love the warmth people who know me well, give me. And then I hate my thinking at times. It seems to stem from an overwhelming sense of the bigger issues in the world. It’s like they are on my shoulders and I gotta fix it all, then I get on a buzz of how I will and can and then, all of a sudden, the reality of me not being able to succeed in the mission of saving the world (sounds ridiculous huh?) it becomes too much and BOOM! You think your a failure, your not worthy of what you have ‘coz you can’t fix the issue, the happiness you surround yourself with is not yours to have.

You maybe thinking what the hellllllllllll this is a tad depressing Jess! Get it together, you can’t control the bigger things in the world! And I totally agree. But what makes me anxious, and this is the main point of the Catcher in the Rye reference (don’t panic, I’m not going to go all Mark Chapman on anyones ass. Google it if you don’t know) is what I can and can’t control what Lily is exposed to in the world. Or where the world and environment is heading for the future generations.

I would love to believe the next generations are future proofed, fool proofed, free of oppression, free of judgement, just free. I’m just anxious ‘Tis all. Just overthink shit. And that’s all it is, is shit.

I need to have the frozen song, let it go, on repeat.

I have always had anxiety and mild depression. But I truly think once you have someone in your care, someone who relies on you, depends on you to live, to give them life, then you can overthink A GAZILLION other things. Things relevant (or not) to them. Like formula vs Breast. Dummy or no dummy. Sleep training vs no sleep training. Cot vs bedshare. Cry it out vs gentler soothing. Baby wearing vs no baby wearing. Cloth nappies vs disposable. Back to work vs stay at home. Vaccinate vs not vaccinate. The list can go on and on and bloody on. All these I can control yet I worry about if the one I choose is best for Lily.

I know is a VERY common theme among parents, always questioning and worrying if the choices they make are best for their cherubs. And I can say, with my wise words (actually stolen from a wise admirable friend, so not my own words) is:

Is it safe for baby? Does it work for you AND baby?

If you have looked at both options, weighed them up and made an informed decision based on that and it ticks those 2 things, then fack it! Lets not get anxious and let that big bitch of a black dog bite us in our flabby cellulited asses (perhaps that’s just me with my ‘mum’ bod lol. I’m lolling). No need to lose precious sleep over the things you can’t control.

Rest easy knowing you are wonderful in your anxious state and that you are wonderfully anxious cause you care and have your loved ones in your best interest and you are wonderful cause you have a beautiful baby/toddler/13yo who is loved and safe. Make an informed choice, grab a chamomile tea spiked with vodka and go to bed. Breathe. Relax. Sleep (lol) knowing you have made the best decisions for you and your family.

I found my old Bursary English exam papers while moving and I only got a bloody 52 for my essay on catcher in the rye. I think it was totes worth at least a 55….?



If you are feeling down and bitten, PLEASE contact a professional mental health agency.

Mummas in the Franklin district

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