Today was my first day back in the world of SAHM life (don’t pretend you’re not familiar with the acronym). For the last six months, I was a powerhouse filling my every waking moment with as many roles as possible; Mother, Wife, full-time employee, Uni student, all while trying to drop the baby weight with running and three daily serves of 150g of chicken breast. Like I said, powerhouse. I ruthlessly pushed the ache aside each morning as I dropped my kids at daycare, having to drag my husband out of the place (his lack of ruthlessness making him dreamy in the eyes of the lovely young educators). I stayed up late at night studying telling myself I would be happy with just a pass (I lied to myself a lot). I overcompensated by bringing my work life home so I could try to get ahead, stealing hours from my sleep.

Then we relocated interstate for my husband’s work (no blame, just fact).

I had to resign.

Now I find myself on a cold hard basketball court filled with gym mats, colourful ball pits and the type of soft furniture that if an adult sits on it, makes said adult look much heavier than they really are (active wear or no).
I don’t much feel like a powerhouse anymore.
I feel like if I’m not being everything, then I’m not anything.
This sounds over-dramatized, and while I understand it isn’t real, that I am in fact just as much everything as I ever was, just because you know something, doesn’t mean you feel it.

What I learned from being the powerhouse is that my mental health relies heavily on being busy, it does not react well to unproductive downtime unless there is a tropical island, babysitters and wine (not necessarily in that order).
I thrive on routine and have a very close relationship with my weekly planner (note to self: need new weekly planner). For me to know this, to understand what it is that gets me through my day, whether it is routine, relationships, or running, it makes me ahead of the game. It keeps me in charge of my mental health (SAHM 101).

Being a SAHM is a job on its own in a world that can seem vastly underpopulated. The added pressure of being new in town, having to venture out and make new friends, not just for myself but also for my children, seems superficial but it is crucial.

And so here we are, on a cold hard basketball court filled with gym mats, colourful ball pits and the type of soft furniture that if an adult sits on it, makes said adult look much heavier than they really are (active wear or no).

T