Here are some facts about me.
1) I am always tired
Nowadays, we are fortunate that on at least some nights we have the luxury of the kids sleeping through. Not last night, or the night before that, or in fact the night before that… but when both children are feeling well then 4 or 5 nights a week they will sleep through the night. Yay.
However, I know I will be woken up somewhere between 5 and 6am, maybe 6.30 at a push, 4.30 on very special occasions. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday… All the way through the week, over the weekend, and so on and so on until we all die. It’s absolute balls and it breaks me.
Going to bed earlier is the simple solution, right? Nay, for it is absolutely impossible to bed early, even with the threat of 5.30am hanging over your head. Why? I don’t know why.
‘Let’s have an early night’ I’ll say. ‘Let’s get into bed by 10’.
But we don’t.
And then when we do get to bed like the social-media addicted idiot I am, I spend ages flicking through my phone anyway, looking at the pictures I’ve taken that day, chatting with friends that will very much still be there in the morning about entirely non-urgent things.
And then, the next day when I look at the clock and it’s 5.38am and it’s up for the day, somehow I’m surprised that I’m really tired.
I reckon, however, I would still be tired even if my kids slept in til 8am every day. I suspect I will never find out.
2) I’m overweight
No, I haven’t even begun to shift my ‘mum tum’. If anything it’s worse than it ever was. The ‘huge pants’ I bought in preparation for my first c-section are now just pants. I’m fairly sure I can no longer claim babyweight when my ‘baby’ is coming up for two and a half.
I have managed to successfully diet before and it wasn’t even that hard, really, so in theory it should be completely achievable; it’s only a few stone. What’s that, a few months, tops?
However it is actually bloody impossible.
I can eat next to nothing during the day, stay on-plan, live off fumes, caffeine and my own tears… and then evening rolls round and suddenly everything is fair game and I eat everything in the world and wash it down with wine even when I had, earlier that very same day, decided that I would be healthy and alcohol was strictly for weekends. But goddamnit, the bedtime took aaaages now they’re FINALLY asleep and dammit I deserve it!
I’ll be better tomorrow…
3) My house is a mess
I don’t have a ‘real’ job any more. I’m at home a lot. Objectively there is quite a bit of time when I could clean the house, but I’ll be honest the thought doesn’t appeal.
On the odd occasion, something takes over me and I think ‘right, I’m going to sort out the kitchen today’. One of the kids is asleep and the other is at preschool, or they’re happily engrossed in CBeebies, and I start. I take things out of cupboards, I am going to sort! I am going to have a system this time, and it will stay tidy.
And then someone wakes up or has done a poo and needs their bum wiped.
Then while I’m in the loo, for example, I see there is a suspicious mark on the floor which will come off easily enough, so I head to the cupboard to get the bleach.
Whilst walking to the cupboard, I see clutter on the stairs (probably left by me earlier), so I think ‘I’ll just put that away’ and by the time I make it to the cupboard to get the bleach I’ve forgotten what I’m doing and there’s still shit all over the kitchen and I’ve lost all inclination to sort, and it’s time to cook dinner anyway.
Meanwhile, the kids are ‘entertaining’ themselves colouring in the carpet and there is new suspicious staining on the sofa.
4) I am ALWAYS LATE
As I repeat so often, we are routinely up at 5.30am so why do I still struggle to leave the house at 8.45 every goddamn day?
That’s over three hours. I’m fairly certain Beyonce takes less time to get ready than that.
To be fair, I’m so tired owing to number 1, that rather than springing out of bed the moment my son decides morning has broken I beg and plead and (if desperate) bribe with the iPad to be allowed to remain, still very much awake, in my bed because I just can’t human yet.
Once an appropriate time has been reached (let’s say, 6.30/7am, that’s more normal) the getting ready can begin, and god that really isn’t easy is it? There just isn’t enough time to do everything and then spend an hour shouting at them to get their bloody shoes on.
5) I do stupid things that are destined for failure
For instance, trying to cook the kids a nice dinner, or taking them out somewhere as a ‘treat’.
In my heart, I know it’s going to be a painful experience, probably leading to tears and then wine at bedtime.
Some would say ‘idiot’, I say ‘optimist’.
Why am I like this?
It’s a conundrum. A comumdrum, if you will. Yes I know it’s a bit shit but work with me on this. I’m tired.
Is it just me?
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