Argh, today I just feel so angry, stressed, tired and ready to scream at whoever comes my way. Don’t get me wrong I love my life to bits but it makes me sick how people can be so dismissive and frankly rude to a woman with children when they’d never survive the day if they walked in my shoes just once. Having two young children is difficult, period. Juggling night feeds, the school run, feeding a family of four, work and a home is enough to destroy anyone but still as mothers we soldier on, we expect an uphill struggle and just get on with it because it’s the role that we’ve adopted and men blatantly can’t handle multitasking like we can.
My days don’t start in the morning because my nights overrun my days, I have no sleep routine, there’s no need for an alarm clock because I’m awake every hour anyway. By the time the rest of the world sits down to a bowl of cornflakes I’ve already done a days work and have no sign of clocking off at all, like a grueling twelve hour shift that goes on to last several months instead, no easing up, no respite.
To drag my heels over the front doorstep every morning to do the school run on a ridiculous amount of sleep is torture enough and quite frankly a miracle that I make it there at all. Loading up the bottles, the wipes, the nappies, the change of clothes, the car seats, the coats and blankets and any handbags or my own belongings before I even leave the drive is as stressful as rushing to the airport when in danger of missing your flight for holiday. I’m constantly like a bat out of hell, my brains are scrambled, my mind tortured through sleep deprivation and my body like a dying limp fly, I actually have to fight to even sit upright on the toilet I’m so tired.
And when we finally get to where we’re going and I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, arriving like a survivor from a shipwreck on hands and knees crawling across the dry sand knowing the panic and rush and stressful journey is over and we’ve finally made it, it seems instead of a beautiful oasis I am greeted with a sandstorm instead.
Like when you try to cross the road with a baby in a buggy and a car approaches and slows down to let you by, so you pop a hand up and nod to say thank you and do a little hop skip across the road so as not to keep them waiting; but when you get to the curb it’s just a fraction too high and you struggle to get the front wheel up and faff about lifting the buggy up onto the curb, and the driver loses patience and rolls their eyes, throws their hands up or shakes their head at having to wait, because you’ve put them out so much, so inconsiderately as you stand their struggling by yourself. And nobody comes to help you they just sit waiting getting more and more pissed off. Almost as bad as people in an elevator when you push the button to call the lift and the doors open straight away because it had just filled up with people and was about to go, but instead the doors open and everybody glares at you for causing their delay. It’s not on purpose, you were just doing what everybody else does but suddenly you’ve offended people and it’s all your fault you inconsiderate Neanderthal. And when people are walking through a door and hold it for you and you walk as fast as you can pushing a pram loaded with baby baggage so that you can get there quickly to relieve them and take hold of the door but it takes you just a fraction too long and you can see the annoyance on their face. Do they not see me struggling? Have they never had children to understand or are their hearts and brains made of stone?
To even get out with the children is conquering Everest in itself, and to run an hour late is such an achievement and you’d realise and respect a mother if you’ve seen what she’s been through to even arrive on the same day as she said she would. You shouldn’t tut, scream, shout or shake your head to make a mother feel bad for running late with her children or inconveniencing your day by depriving you of a few valuable seconds of your life. Unless of course you’d treat an elderly relative like that if they arrived late to lunch one day, or a war hero who’d lost limbs fighting for his country and took too long maneuvering his car from a disabled car parking space. I was always so punctual before, so capable and so apologetic for other people but now I know it’s humanly impossible to continue to live like a single individual when you have two young children. If I just had myself to worry about then it’s not a problem, I’d be ten minutes early for everything, we’d eat a roast dinner with all the trimmings every night and I’d have all the time in the world to preen myself into a supermodel. But it’s not me, it’s us, we move with eight feet, not two, we dress four people, carry seven bags and all have to get out of just one door. And I won’t apologise or feel bad for trying, because I try damn hard, and I always try my best.
So if you see a mother and her children out and about, do me a favour and smile at her, hold the door open for her without a time limit, invite her to lunch without the drama, help her to cross the road without seven different facial expressions and never ever cause a stink over her not being on time. Because she’s done a hell of a lot more than you know, and as soon as you watch her leave she going home to either collapse or cry whilst you eat a hot dinner, have a relaxing bath or read a nice book.
My beautiful children are the only things that keep me going, and it’s inconsiderate people that make me less and less inclined to even leave the house. I think before long I’ll start doing the food shop online and speaking to people on a webcam instead of face to face!
There’s still no sign of my period, but I think it’s down to my body clock being so far out of sync as the other day I only got two hours sleep and actually fell asleep at Luca’s parents house when we went over to visit. Luckily they understand but I don’t think a shop assistant or traffic warden would be as forgiving if I conked out in public. I need a spare battery to keep me going.
Millie had her induction for her new school, her big school where she starts in September and it makes me so happy but so sad at the same time to know that she will be at school for six hours a day. It hurts my heart and makes my whole body ache to be without her and I pray that she won’t get bullied or left out, that nobody will tease her for what she wears or how she speaks or where she lives. Petty things, which children take to heart.