Thursday, 23 October 2014

Losing your identity and wanting to be more than just someone's Mummy. Trying to find the person you used to be and some time for yourself in your hectic daily life. Will it ever happen?!

I spend my days running around after the five children and don't make, or get, time for myself. Bedtimes get so late that by the time you get them all in bed you don't have time to sit down and chill out for a bit before it's your own bedtime. The nights fly by and suddenly it's morning again and you jump straight into the routine of uniforms, lunches, making breakfast, brushing hair, making sure they have washed and brushed their teeth.

You are dashing out of the door so fast that your head is all over the place. You're stressing as you left so fast you aren't sure if you have everything, inevitably with me it's the house keys! I rush to make sure they get to school on time, in nice clean uniform, hair brushed and faces clean yet I look like I've been dragged through a hedge backwards. I'm sporting the scraped back pony tail and I'm lucky that I got out of my PJ's in time. I can't be a PJ's on the school run Mum but I sometimes wish I was. Although I wish I could just stay at home and not get out of my PJ's!



Making mess then tires you out. Stressful times followed by peaceful times.


 So the kids are at school, you run from the school playground shouting 'Freeedooooommmm' then you realise that you still have a toddler in tow. As lovely as he is he isn't any help when it comes to housework, I've tried getting him to write a few blog posts for me but he's having none of it and he can't even work a kettle. So all in all toddlers are a bit rubbish. Other than playing with Duplo, train sets, watching Peppa Pig or showing me his signature dance moves to some music on Youtube he is no help at all. Oh and clinging to my leg so I have to drag him around most of the house with me too.



Not quite graduated from the toddler school of housework yet?! 


So my day is taken up with trying to stay on top of housework but it never gets achieved. Playtime with the toddler is more fun or if I do want to get something done Thing 5 follows me and makes sure it doesn't get done!

Then it's back to the afternoon school run and home for the usual evening routine of dinner, homework, bath time, reading books, learning words, a bit of arguing thrown in for good measure and some TV/iPod/Kindle time. As I run around cooking meals, running baths, reciting Biff and Chip books to the best of my ability I'm also the referee in a boxing match between some children.

Evening time soon turns into bedtime. All goes well with the youngest one usually and he is asleep by 6.30 but I then spend my evenings sorting out everyone else's bedtimes. No one goes to sleep nicely, they are up and down because they've finished their water, they need the toilet again, it's too dark, they have a headache, it's too cold, it's too hot or their leg has fallen off. Nothing major and all for the joy of making me get up and down 20 million times to sort them out. So that's my evening gone.



Quieter activities after school are always good, until there's only one red loom band left and they both NEED it! Oh and a warming hot chocolate is always helpful for the evening stresses. 




           Thing 1 and OH getting some 'us time' recently. I think they enjoyed themselves! 

Each day seems to roll into one at the moment. I don't know where one ends and one begins. I want my me time back. I do go out on a Tuesday evening. It's nice whilst I am out but you can guarantee that I will return and there will still be children awake. So I don't relax, I don't enjoy my time out as much as I should because I know what I am going to face when I get home. I miss my Tuesday night that ended by me creeping back into the house and checking on sleeping children before slipping into bed and being asleep instantly. I want that night back.



The troublemakers! 


Rarely during the week will I go out and if I do I have Thing 5 in tow. In the school playground I don't even have a name. Oh here's Thing 3's Mummy they will say. I'm not a person, I'm my child's possession. I belong to that child so I have no identity of my own.



Don't be fooled by the innocent looking darling! 

Will I ever find a new me? Will things ever get easier? Am I destined to never find my name again and always be 'The Thing's Mummy'? Will I ever know what it's like to pee alone rather than being watched by a toddler? 

Who knows?! 




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