When sunshine makes you sad

Walking along the Southbank during my half an hour lunchbreak earlier started off normal (as normal as the Southbank gets!). There were people on the sand building sand sofas (yes really!) ,and displaying messages with their thoughts on the recent HSBC scandal. There was a man playing a keyboard. There was a bunch of schoolkids, one punched another (I did ask the punched guy if he was ok but he spoke to me in French so I have no idea what he said!).  You know, your bog standard lunchbreak.

What there was also lots of was families. Mummies out with their babies, daddies out with theirs, families out together, the odd nan with her grandchild. Walking along I was thinking what a beautiful sunny spring day, how lovely to be outside enjoying the sunshine. And then looking around I felt sad. I felt sad that I was stuck in work all day. I felt sad that Zach is stuck in a room at nursery (obviously with access to the garden when given). I felt sad that we should be together.

It’s spring, it should be the start of days of us going to the park, playing on the swings and slide, running around the grass and having picnics.

We should be playing in the garden. Playing ball or on his ride ons, looking at the different coloured flowers or even doing a spot of gardening, exploring the soil and the bugs within.

We should be wandering over to the country park, going for walks in the sunshine, walking along the canal and exploring the woodland.

We should be doing so much fun stuff but instead, we rush out of the house and go our separate ways.

I had a twitter conversation with another working mummy the other that went like this:

I’m so glad I’m not the only one that feels this way. I’m so glad there are other mummies out there, dreaming about a life of play dates and trips in the sunshine. Of snuggly morning cuddles and fun in the garden. I often feel so lonely. I often feel like I’m the only working mummy out there who has such a small amount of time with her son to have fun.  When I walk along that Southbank seeing all those lucky mummies with their children, I can’t help but feel an incredible amount of jealousy. That, by the time I get home with my little boy tonight, the sun will have gone and it will be dark. We will have an hour (if that) until bedtime and then it’s time to get him off to sleep. And even then I feel guilty. I sit there asking him to go to sleep, stroking his head or singing him a lullaby while he is desperately staying awake. It always feels like he is trying to stay awake to get a few extra moments with us because he just does not see us as much as he should.

And after thinking about all of this on that short half an hour break, do you know what I did? I cried a little bit. If I hadn’t have been in public, heading back to the office, there would have probably been full on snotty sobs but I had to keep myself composed!

And so for me today, unlike most others, the sun has not brought happiness. It has made me sad about the upcoming spring/summer; about how much of the fun stuff I will miss out on. The stuff that we have to squeeze into weekends because we have no other time to do it.

And so to all you lucky mummies out there who do get to do this stuff. Enjoy every moment because you do not know how lucky you are.

And to my other half who I know is reading this. I know you miss out on it all too, I really do know but I hope that you don’t feel as sad as me because I don’t want us both feeling this sad.

And now I need to stop writing…because I’m secretly crying at my desk.

Sod you sunshine! Look what you did!