Where did my confidence go?

Its one of those nights where I can't sleep for the buzzing of my 'to-do' list pinging round my head; ironically, I don't think I've felt this tired in months.  Smallest Boy sleeps through and has done since he was around 5 months (no smugness intended - this was nothing whatsoever to do with my parenting skills) and Small Boy, although wearing, has been calm and collected all night until his 7pm bedtime.  At which point he took no time at all to choose a story and then to drag Dad upstairs to read it, leaving me with my hot (yes - you read that correctly) cup of tea and my iPad.

So, what is going on?

Well, I've realised over the past few weeks that the things I used to be good average at have sort of disappeared.  Don't get me wrong, I've never claimed to be the world's best socialiser, or the most committed and diligent of employees (although I have certainly tried) but lately, if I was to be given a score out of 10 for either of these things I think I'd achieve around a 2 when previously I'd like to think I was around an 8.

When I became a mum to Small Boy I feared that my life would change and I was determined not to change too much. I wanted to be Mum and I wanted to be me; not too much of a challenge?  I was eager to get back to work when I realised it wasn't all coffee mornings and manicure appointments and I thought that would be enough to keep me ticking over as 'myself'.  But then I realised that Small Boy needed me, and in truth I needed him; more than that, I didn't crave my pre-child life back at all and I started to embrace the changes.  I enjoyed staying in on a weekend so that I was raring to go to whatever fun activity I'd found for Small Boy on a Saturday and Sunday morning; I wanted to stay in on an afternoon whilst Small Boy slept and I read until he woke up.  I thoroughly enjoyed being quiet and in a bubble and I felt sad at the prospect of returning to work.  I did though, and it wasn't half as difficult as I'd built it up to be.

Fast forward a few years to the arrival of Smallest Boy and life is pretty much the same.  But as I realise that he is my last child I've also realised that my life has changed beyond all recogntion and for some reason I've been thinking what happens next?  I haven't made much effort to lose the four spare tyres from around my middle my baby weight despite it being a whole year.  My roots are starting to grow very dark, thankfully I'm not grey yet, but I can't say my hair looks anywhere near natural which is the real problem.  I wear whatever I can find for the day, I'm past the days of being covered in baby sick but I haven't started to make an effort with my clothes like I used to.  In fact, I still wear maternity clothes most days because none of my other clothes fit me. I avoid the opportunities to dress up because trying to find something flattering and inexpensive is nigh on impossible.

Without making this sound like a self indulgent pity party, I'm not exactly happy with the way I've definitely let myself go.  And I'm too busy with remembering how to do everything I need to during the day to address it.  Probably the hardest part of all of this has come to light over the last few weeks since I returned to work and clawed my way back into the real world.  But I just don't fit anymore.  I made the decision to leave when I realised that I couldn't sacrifice our home life and the time I needed with the Small Boys, but that certainly wasn't a reflection of my place of work.  Quite the opposite, in fact.  My career used to be my baby and I'd certainly not let it go for any trivial reason, but I have too much respect for my profession to continue and make a hash up of it: I could't do that, not after the blood, sweat and tears I've put into it over the last 12 years.  But, its sadly no longer a profession that is what we might deem family friendly. This whole experience has made me feel like I'm the round very round peg being forced into the square hole.

I'm excited about my professional future; I've got a few projects coming up that I've been desperate to try for a few years and I've finally found myself in a position to try them.  But how do I work on myself?  Are mums destined to remain stuck in the limbo between maternity leave and normal life?  Do we ever find our way back?  I'd love your advice if you've found your way, I'm worried that without that crucial piece of the jigsaw I'm always going to feel like I'm trying to get something back.

As a firm believer of never looking back that idea doesn't sit well with me, but how do you move forward when some aspects of the past were exactly what you need?