Let me tell you about a little romance story. It isn't in the wind swept Hollywood form but parcelled up in the comfy marriage variety.
Let's go back about four months ago. Best friend announces she is getting married. Happy feelings float everywhere until there is the realisation that the jetsetter will be having a destination wedding in France. A sinking feeling set in. Obviously I wanted to be there. I had always daydreamed I would be there and now I found myself stuck in the thick of mothering three Vicklets and going nowhere fast. France seemed just a bit unreachable.
The same day my other best friend confided that she had just got a very sophisticated, jet setting job in another capital city. She was moving.
On the complete polar opposite of things I was staying put in my suburban life. I felt completely stuck. Slumped in a full blown mummy identity crisis. It had been unfolding for some time but here I was at the pinnacle upon these announcements.
I sat on my bed in the semi darkness at the end of my mothering day and felt upset with the stagnancy of my life. Mr Vick could read me no doubt because he casually looked up from his laptop and said "If you want to go to France, go!". Just like as if he was telling me he was nicking down to the supermarket to get milk. No biggy.
My heart skipped a beat. Does he even really know what he is saying? All the things flickered through my head in a ten second film. Could he look after the kids alongside his uni and work commitments? How could we afford it? How long could I go for? Could I wean the boob loving babe for the trip? And the big one, could I actually leave me children and fly to the other side of the world?
I don't recall what was said following because a sense of elevation transpired. I was on a cloud of possibility. Quite the opposite to how I was feeling just moments earlier.
I went to the supermarket for supplies and wandered around in a blur (I actually came home with nothing that was needed). Questioning if I could. Thinking all the time that it was too much for my Vicklets, that it was too selfish and yet there was a spark that had been lit inside that I had not felt for such a long time. I felt awakened. I felt like I could be me.
More chats followed. Seems Mr Vick had this. He was good with it and in fact he didn't want me to have to say no 'cos I'm a yes girl when it comes to living. Gosh. He was accruing husbando points faster than ever before.
Going would be a huge ask. See, Mr Vick is in the final week of his university degree. THE FINAL WEEK after fours years of work and he has sixty three assignments (*slight exaggeration*) due and a few exams to prepare for. This was never going to be an average week for him and yet he still selflessly said go. That is the romance part right there. Surely every tired mum out there gets that?
I'm not a fool. I can see I'm a lucky one with a goodin' for a husband. Never was that amplified more. I feel deeply grateful that he said France wasn't unreachable. Motherhood should not confine me. He recognised the importance of me celebrating with my best friend but for me to heal. A little part of my soul that has started to wilt in the heat of motherhood. I haven't been on my best game. The challenges and confinements have been wearing on me. I haven't been the mother my boys deserve.
Now without tiny babies (and no more scheduled), it's time to start a new chapter. Time to move into a less one sided phase. A phase that is me and motherhood. This could be the moment to start playing that out.
I had to give myself permission. This was the real biggy. I had to give myself permission to leave my babies. To release myself from motherhood. To let go. To trust. To prioritise myself.
I told every mother that I came across about this opportunity looking to them to tell me I was being completely insane, too selfish, too risky but they all stared at me with goggle eyes and yelled YOU'VE GOT TO GO! It was like i had to do it for all the mothers.
So, I took a leap.
Two days later I booked a ticket to Paris. My head was flickering from dreamland and mummy freakout but I was going to have to swallow those feelings and take myself on the journey.
Sometimes moving from one phase into another in our lives takes a little push and a little dash of courage.