Another bath time blog. 


Crazy day. Well, crazy day AND night. Theo’s teething, and bloody hell, don’t we know about it! This weekend alone we’ve spent a small fortune on Fairy washing gel, bum wipes, Sudocreme, and nappies. I curse every mother who brags their baby never suffered with teething. Damn you, damn you all! Here I am soaking the dried sick from my hair, and scrubbing the yellow poo from under my fingernails, whilst blogging in an attempt to rid myself of the memories of this traumatic 24 hours. 

You’ll all be pleased to know, despite said poo-gate and even more lack of sleep, I feel ‘the fog’ is starting to shift. I’ve had a good week at work (it’s amazing what a little bit of praise does), and I think my team realise I’m not the Wicked Witch. I’m attempting to start to have a little bit of ‘me time’ (even though this week I’ve just been alone in the bath). We’ve just been making plans to have a rare night out together, and we’ve been researching not-too-tacky-baby-friendly holiday destinations. I think another massive weight off my mind is that we’ve said we’ll stop house hunting until after summer. We LOVE where we live so much, and want a carefree summer, picnicking in the park, feeding ducks. 

Although I can’t quite believe it, Big Lad turns 1 in a fortnight. I’ve turned into a crazy mama party planner. With a little help from Pinterest, he’s having a Peter Rabbit themed party, with allotment cake, Mr McGreggor signs, carrot baby buns, and we’ve even spent our evenings making carrot bunting! I think I’ve found my vocation in life. What I need to realise is that there’ll hardly be any kids there, and it’ll just be our mates sipping Pimms, and stuffing their faces with Beatrix Potter inspired party food. 

Anyway, I’m getting all wrinkly so I’d best sign off for now. No iPhone after 9pm; my new plan to ‘switch off’ and relax. I’ve also been reading about this ‘Mindfulness‘ malarkey, so thought I might give that a bash. I’ll let you know how it goes! 

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I think I’ve lost my mojo.

It’s bloomin’ hard to write about feelings when you’re feeling a bit pants. Blabbering on about being tired, and shitty nappies is pretty easy. It’s what you’d expect from a new(ish) mum, working full time. It’s what I expected to feel. But this fog in my mind that I’m feeling wasn’t exactly what I’d imagined. 
I can’t focus. Although I’ve never been a big TV fan, I can’t even be bothered to sit and watch it for half an hour with a glass of wine in the evening. Literally nothing, other than my boy, seems to interest me. I thought I’d try and do something for myself, and play piano in the evenings, but I’m just finding it so difficult to motivate myself. Tonight would be the perfect night to do that with Alex going out, but instead I’m feeling sorry for myself, and faffing with the mountain of chores that constantly pile up now that I’m back at work. 
Then there’s this sudden feeling of self-consciousness. Three years ago I was three stones heavier and never bothered what people thought of me. These past few months however, I’ve lost my mojo. I hate looking in a mirror, I see every imperfection, so have stopped bothering. Now I get why some mums just ‘let themselves go’, so to speak. My mum says I look good (cheers, mum), but all mums think their kids look great, don’t they? 
You might ask why I’m writing here, or ‘airing my dirty laundry’, as my grandma would say. It’s because I know this is probably normal, but no one talks about it. Why not? I’m pretty sure these super mums on Instagram, with their perfect homes, and their manicured nails, have felt like this at some point. I reckon us new(ish) mums need to speak out more, or we’ll all end up wearing unflattering leggings (leg wear sent from satan), and scraping our greasy hair into birds nests. 
Please fog, lift soon, so I’m able to shop in Topshop without thinking about muffin tops, and focus on my Kate Middleton blow dry.