”T’was the morning of Thursday , when all thro’ the house, no creature was stirring, not even a mouse…oh wait Mummy was!”
My 4.30 alarm went off a little earlier than expected. The baby. This was no false alarm, he was NOT going back to sleep without a fight. No amount of ”sssh-ings” and cuddles worked so reluctantly I went to warm the bottle. Once changed and fed he was ready to go back down in the cot. Having one child who refused to sleep through the night until he was at least 5 (no joke) was a killer, hence the big age gap, so imagine my
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pleasure when I found out this one slept! Knowing I had at least 2 more blissful hours of sleep before we all needed to get up, I climbed back in bed . Hubster was already fast asleep and I was ready to join him…. NO CHANCE . My brain suddenly went into overdrive. Everything that could possibly go through my head at 4.30 am did. Guilt washed over me .”I haven’t sewn on his beaver badges, or paid the school dinner money, what if they won’t allow him any more lunches!? I’m pretty sure the baby’s vest was wet and I haven’t changed it..should I
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?
I just couldn’t sleep.The more I tried, the more frustrated I became. Those two hours were slowly chipping away and I was conscious I was losing sleep. What can I do to switch off and go back to sleep? Then I thought about it. How well do we look after ourselves?
Back B.C (before children) I looked after myself well. Leisurely lay in’s. Getting ready for a night out started at 3 pm, enjoying long luxurious bubble baths and Saturdays were spent strolling around the shops. We would enjoy long romantic dinners whispering sweet
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nothings in each other’s ear. How I miss those days.
Since becoming a mum I feel like I have lost a lot of who I was, don’t get me wrong what I have gained is indescribable (quite literally with all the shitty nappies we change). I constantly have a baby attached to my hip, I still look 6 months pregnant so I’m still not wearing any decent clothes in fact ’jeans and a nice top’has become ’leggings covered in sick with a thick baggy jumper’. I can’t remember when I last washed my hair let alone styled it, it goes straight into a ’mum
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bun’ and remains there for a good few days. I’ve learnt to have a cold shower in under 4 minutes and then someone still declares they need a poo! Then there’s the body hair! the 7-year-old, in his own words, felt my legs and followed up with ”Urgh! prickly cactus!” And the lady garden…. it needs a bloody strimmer to get through that forest!
Mr P comes through the door and is immediately greeted with a baby being hurled in his face as it becomes ’his turn’. We tag team the boys all evening occasionally exchanging notes – The boy
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refused to eat the dinner (can’t find his fucking shoes but can find the smallest piece of onion in his dinner) and hasn’t done his homework resulting in Xbox ban. The baby has cried continuously for x amount of hours. After what feels like an eternity, its bedtime and when the boy finally gives in and stops coming out of his room to declare: he is hungry, needs a cuddle, wants a drink, lost his teddy, feels sick, It’s nearly 10 pm and well lets face it that’s bedtime because we’ve gotta get up and do all this shit again tomorrow.
When
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is there time to look after me!? I don’t recognise myself in the mirror, the bags under my eyes look like I’ve been in the ring with Mike Tyson, there are no laughter lines, just inch deep wrinkles from the stress of motherhood. Despite all my insecurities Mr P always tells me how beautiful I look and how sexy I am. I don’t believe him, I look like I’ve escaped from Guantanamo Bay, but he sees the real me and I need to learn to believe him. I want to feel beautiful again. I need to be selfish and work on myself. So here’s the deal. I’m taking 30
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minutes a day to spend on me. That might be a warm shower with expensive shower cream or going upstairs closing the door and reading that book that’s been sat there for months, or even enjoy one hot cup of tea. This is MY time.
Fuck the washing. It can wait. I never liked it anyway.
If you do one thing today. Listen to the song below. Happy Thursday x
“T’was the morning of Thursday , when all thro’ the house, no creature was stirring, not even a mouse…oh wait Mummy was!”
My 4.30 alarm went off a little earlier than expected. The baby. This was no false alarm, he was NOT going back to sleep without a fight. No amount of “sssh-ings” and cuddles worked so reluctantly I went to warm the bottle. Once changed and fed he was ready to go back down in the cot. Having one child who refused to sleep through the night until he was at least 5 (no joke) was a killer, hence the big age gap, so imagine my pleasure when I found out this one slept! Knowing I had at least 2 more blissful hours of sleep before we all needed to get up, I climbed back in bed . Hubster was already fast asleep and I was ready to join him…. NO CHANCE . My brain suddenly went into overdrive. Everything that could possibly go through my head at 4.30 am did. Guilt washed over me .”I haven’t sewn on his beaver badges, or paid the school dinner money, what if they won’t allow him any more lunches!? I’m pretty sure the baby’s vest was wet and I haven’t changed it..should I ?
I just couldn’t sleep.The more I tried, the more frustrated I became. Those two hours were slowly chipping away and I was conscious I was losing sleep. What can I do to switch off and go back to sleep? Then I thought about it. How well do we look after ourselves?
Back B.C (before children) I looked after myself well. Leisurely lay in’s. Getting ready for a night out started at 3 pm, enjoying long luxurious bubble baths and Saturdays were spent strolling around the shops. We would enjoy long romantic dinners whispering sweet nothings in each other’s ear. How I miss those days.
Since becoming a mum I feel like I have lost a lot of who I was, don’t get me wrong what I have gained is indescribable (quite literally with all the shitty nappies we change). I constantly have a baby attached to my hip, I still look 6 months pregnant so I’m still not wearing any decent clothes in fact ‘jeans and a nice top’has become ‘leggings covered in sick with a thick baggy jumper’. I can’t remember when I last washed my hair let alone styled it, it goes straight into a ‘mum bun’ and remains there for a good few days. I’ve learnt to have a cold shower in under 4 minutes and then someone still declares they need a poo! Then there’s the body hair! the 7-year-old, in his own words, felt my legs and followed up with “Urgh! prickly cactus!” And the lady garden…. it needs a bloody strimmer to get through that forest!
Mr P comes through the door and is immediately greeted with a baby being hurled in his face as it becomes ‘his turn’. We tag team the boys all evening occasionally exchanging notes – The boy refused to eat the dinner (can’t find his fucking shoes but can find the smallest piece of onion in his dinner) and hasn’t done his homework resulting in Xbox ban. The baby has cried continuously for x amount of hours. After what feels like an eternity, its bedtime and when the boy finally gives in and stops coming out of his room to declare: he is hungry, needs a cuddle, wants a drink, lost his teddy, feels sick, It’s nearly 10 pm and well lets face it that’s bedtime because we’ve gotta get up and do all this shit again tomorrow.
When is there time to look after me!? I don’t recognise myself in the mirror, the bags under my eyes look like I’ve been in the ring with Mike Tyson, there are no laughter lines, just inch deep wrinkles from the stress of motherhood. Despite all my insecurities Mr P always tells me how beautiful I look and how sexy I am. I don’t believe him, I look like I’ve escaped from Guantanamo Bay, but he sees the real me and I need to learn to believe him. I want to feel beautiful again. I need to be selfish and work on myself. So here’s the deal. I’m taking 30 minutes a day to spend on me. That might be a warm shower with expensive shower cream or going upstairs closing the door and reading that book that’s been sat there for months, or even enjoy one hot cup of tea. This is MY time.
Fuck the washing. It can wait. I never liked it anyway.
If you do one thing today. Listen to the song below. Happy Thursday x
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Selfish Mother blogzine is a platform for likeminded women created by journalist Molly Gunn in 2013. We have a clothing store called Selfish Mother Shop, which is where we sell our iconic tees and sweatshirts, eg MOTHER and WINGING IT 🙂 We’re inclusive, not exclusive and we’d love you to get involved. Writing for Selfish Mother is free and easy… it takes 1 minute to join! You’ll be able to share posts and events immediately… we can’t wait to hear what you have to say.
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