Playing the dangerous game of comparing lifestyles
I don't have any magic bullet answers, except to say it probably boils down to two things – having a healthy sense of humour about your situation, and coffee.
From the outside looking in, I’ve got a lot going on.
Or at least, other people think I do considering the number of ‘I don’t know how you do it?’ comments I get almost on a daily basis.
Truth is, I don’t have anything more going on than most other average people my age.
I’m the mum of two young kids, I’m studying psychology at university, I’m an often-solo army wife, I marry people at the weekends as a celebrant, I write this column. I have dogs that need walking, floors always in need of mopping and legs in need of shaving.
But we’ve all got our things going on.
If I lined up other people I know and compared, I would say the parents of twins have it harder, or the mums of more kids harder GREER BERRY again, and the parents of sick kids the hardest.
I’d say it sucks that sometimes Mr Greer is away for work but at least I know when he is returning (usually), and that at least he is in the same country as me, compared to those I know solo-parenting while their other half is deployed.
I’d compare myself to my fellow students who work fulltime while studying and think ‘‘Well, at least I’m not doing that’’.
I’d look at the other dogs in my neighbourhood that never appear to get any exercise at all, and after watching the latest incredible Paralympics performance, I’d stop and think twice about complaining about having legs to shave.
But here’s my theory: What counts in all of this is who we have in our village.
When I was doing my dangerous comparison game with Mr Greer the other night, I wondered out loud how certain people could cope adding to their family again/having childless weekends away/go off on another overseas holiday, etc.
We’ve had a long, hard year with two little ones barely a year apart. That’s two in nappies, two lots of teething, two lots of large developmental leaps at once – it’s like having twins but without the cute matching outfits.
I’m tired. I’m always so, so tired. I couldn’t work out why even though, I’ll admit, I do have a lot on my plate, others seemed to be coping with their lives with little ones so much better.
They looked better rested, they looked in control, heck they looked… happy.
‘‘Parents,’’ he said. ‘‘They’ve got their parents down the road or at least in the same city.’’
Ding, ding, ding. Of course. Don’t get me wrong – our families are a great support, but they all live hours and hours away from us. We are in Palmerston North under duress, as I like to tell people (but secretly I actually like it here), and part of living here means living away from those who can support us.
We do have support – we have wonderful friends around us and fellow military families are especially supportive as they are the only ones who can really truly understand what our lifestyle is like. But it’s not the same as having family here.
Sometimes I’d just settle for having the ability to send Mr Almost Two away for a couple of hours, just so I could have a shower in peace without someone proclaiming ‘‘Ta-daaah!’’ before ripping back the shower curtain with glee, then laugh at the wobbly view that greets him.
Mr Greer and I have such fond memories of growing up with our grandparents and aunties and uncles around us; they often stepped in as babysitters and no doubt provided great support for our parents.
But our lack of it, due to our circumstances, does make me wonder – probably much like those who have questioned me – exactly how do I do it?
I don’t have any magic bullet answers, except to say it probably boils down to two things – having a healthy sense of humour about your situation, and coffee.
I drink a lot of coffee. A lot. Sometimes it is even warm, but more often than not it is cold, with that bitter, pungent, over-brewed aftertaste.
It’s all the same to me now. My coping mechanism is to gulp it down and repeat my mantra to myself that today will eventually end, and tomorrow is another day.
Because to me, that’s what becoming a parent has really taught me: you’ll put up with the bad stuff and all the cold coffee in the world, just to get a taste of the good stuff.
It’s worth it, or at least that’s what everyone keeps telling me.