Finding My Feet... and My Mojo

Routine: my days go faster with one; there is no doubt about that. Without one I start to feel like the wheels are coming off a bit and I hate that feeling of being out of control. I don’t know whether it is the teacher in me or it’s just who I am, but I like to know there’s a plan, or at the very least a backbone to my day.

Units of Time

For the weeks leading up to the move, when each day was so changeable, I found myself checking the diary and the clock every five minutes and I became quite anxious about it all, even though it wasn’t all clearing out cupboards and drawers and finding somewhere to live.

Many things in the diary were bloody fabulous events like seeing ace mates and going out for cake and dinners. I think I must be the only person who ever felt anxious about having a few nights out on the Prosecco midweek! I mean, looking back - what a treat hey? I couldn't fit everyone in though either which was another source of anxiety - feeling that I was letting people down.

I’ll freely admit that being here with no plans at all felt intimidating too, and was a big contributor to my low mood in the first few days when Mr W went back to work. When Jude’s naps were thrown off course it became even worse and I felt like I was in danger of losing my grip (and booking the next flight back to Manchester.)

But now we’ve got into our new rhythm, things are definitely looking up. Just like Hugh Grant’s character in ‘About a Boy’ our day is broken down into perfect little ‘units of time’ (oh God - it IS the teacher in me isn’t it? I promise this ‘daily timetable’ isn’t colour coded and stuck on the wall.)

Still, despite this, there’s something else niggling me:

… and it’s ME.

Missing my Mojo

I am a Mum and a wife but I feel that since coming here I have left a major part of myself behind. The bit that makes me, well, me I suppose. I realised this as I found myself excited by the arrival of the new Swiffer (good lord, this dog sheds!) and how I could see my somewhat fatigued face in the mirror sheen of the chrome taps.

My sister in law complimented me on my tidy home and I felt a huge sense of achievement. But this is not me. Don’t get me wrong, I do like having a clean and tidy home, I just do not want to take enormous pleasure from the efficiency of a micro-fibre cloth. It’s not good for the soul.

I don’t know whether it is down to the stress of the move finally catching up a bit, or that Mr W’s giant cankle and crutches scenario has rendered us stuck within a very small radius. I do feel a bit trapped and together with this, feel exhausted from having take on all the other little things he did to give me a break… but it’s not just that.

I have also left my friends and family behind, and while WhatsApps and social media messages have definitely lifted me, they just aren’t cutting it. Phone-calls and Facetime have been my saviour as without them, the only adult conversation I would be having at the moment is with my husband. He’s marvellous of course, but that is a lot of pressure for anyone... and plus, I'd quite like to hear some other voices too ...and see some different faces for that matter.

So what’s a Mama to do? How can I recover that bit of me that feels like it’s lost luggage going round and round on a baggage carousel somewhere, waiting for me to pick it up?

People have told me that it takes around 6 months to feel at home when you move somewhere new so I am prepared for it to be a tough slog, especially when the people confiding this have jobs where there are opportunities to establish friendships with colleagues.

However, I need to feel like I am at least heading in the right direction, so I have put on my big girl knickers (those are actually the only knickers I wear these days - another situation that requires addressing) and, inspired by an insta pal @tabbyandraff, I have written a little bucket list o' bravery to help me on my way:

The Bucket List

Organise Italian lessons

Learning to speak the language is a big one for me and I am hopeful it will open a few more doors. It will also give me a new challenge and something else to focus on. I’ve got a couple of numbers - I now need to call them.

Attend a playgroup

Not easy this one. As many of you will agree, these places are tricky enough to crack on home turf, never mind with the additional worry of the language barrier BUT I am determined to rip the plaster off and get on with it. Starting next Wednesday.

Drive ‘on the other side’

I braved this at the weekend with a very short drive (we could probably have walked there faster) but braving driving further afield will help to give me a bit more freedom on those days I am craving getting out and about with ease. Plus, it’s only on the other side of the road, hardly the twilight zone is it?

Use public transport

Something else I have been avoiding, having always driven or walked everywhere back in Manchester. My husband assures me that it is easy and scenic and - like the car - will definitely help me to feel less trapped. However, whether it will be quite so scenic and easy with a wriggly toddler in tow only time will tell…

Accept all invites

When you have lost your mojo, are feeling pretty exhausted and looking frazzled, and can never find anything you are happy to wear on a post baby body that has been surviving on wine, cake and biscuits for over a year, it is so tempting to want to turn down invites and stay in your comfort zone… but when your comfort zone isn’t feeling that comfortable anymore either, what have you got to lose?

Use the gift of social media

‘If you don’t ask, you don’t get’ and this afternoon I braved putting myself out there by asking in a Facebook group if some other Mums in Lugano might like to meet me for a park playdate or a coffee. As much as I have no shame in saying that I DEFINITELY want a gin buddy out of this… you’ve got to start small, right?

Progress

So, there we have it. I am getting back in the driver’s seat - both literally and metaphorically. A lovely friend of mine reminded me recently that she always measures things in half terms, so I’ll revisit the list in another few weeks and let you know of any progress I’ve made… and since it’s now in writing, I’ve got no excuses have I?

Wish me luck,

Rx

P.S. This gorgeous bee was personally designed for me by the lovely @stylednynaomi at the request of my wonderfully thoughtful pal @theunrulyones.