So these past few days I've been off my feet. If you're lucky enough to have escaped my moaning, I had a small accident on Sunday and the wound got badly infected. All on the mend now, just off my feet for a week or so.

But, being off your feet with two small children, when you're a stay at home mother, is just not ideal. It's not that I wanted to stay off my feet, I genuinely couldn't walk. Matt is self-employed so we had discussed options and decided I needed help. He was going to stay home until I was in a fit state to care for the kids and could manage to be up and about. But obviously being self-employed means you can't just take a few days annual leave.

Mam was having none of it. She turned up every single day. Has been with me all week. Driving me to appointments. Cooking, cleaning, minding the kids, getting juices, cleaning bums, making tea, and just getting me through in general. All we ever really want is out own mammy when we're not doing so well. I've never been off my feet so I've never had to ask for help with the kids. But boy did I need it this week.


"I've never been more grateful for my village that this week, when it turned up on my doorstep to help me just when I needed it most."


My mother-in-law (ok so technically not in-law yet but it's just easier to say that than Matt's mother), has been super. She's taken Max when I needed to be in hospital. Dropped in bags upon bags of shopping. I mean, everything bar the kitchen sink.

I've always heard the saying, it takes a village. And yes, it does. I've never been more grateful for my village that this week, when it turned up on my doorstep to help me just when I needed it most. It's allowed me to recover (hopefully) a lot quicker. It's taken the pressure off. It's made this week so much more bearable. I feel truly blessed to have these two strong women by my side and I couldn't be happier my children have them as role models to look up too. They take no shit from anyone (I wonder where I get it from?).

Anyways, I've gone off on a tangent. As a mother (or parent in general), it's hard to ask for help. I know it is for me. I've never asked for help before because I've always thought it makes me look weak, or that I'm not coping.  When really, it's you knowing your limits and doing what's best for you and your children makes you the best mother. I wouldn't have been a very good mammy this week if I was on my own. I would have been grumpy every time I had to get up to get a juice. To make lunch. There would have been crying (lots I'd imagine). We all would have been miserable and no doubt my recovery time would have been a lot longer. So it's always better to ask for help. We're only human. As a mother, there are no days off. Feeling crap or not. You have to turn up every day. You have little people relying on you to show up for them. But when you can't show up, knowing you have your support system, your village, there, when it all goes tits up. That's what it's about.

The hardest part of motherhood is asking for help. And accepting it. Pride, ignorance, stubbornness? A mental block that keeps us a slave to the lie that we have mothering shortcomings if we reach out for help? Who knows! A combination perhaps, and the do-it-all society we live in. Allow yourself to become vulnerable enough to ask for and accept help with an attitude of grace, not defeat.

Jessica O’Neill, 26 year old Mama to two under two and author of My Moo and Roo Blog. Currently on maternity leave, winging motherhood everyday.

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