… because life just seems to get in the way.
I was super excited when I set up my blog Not-So-Showbiz Mum. I was all:
‘This is going to be great! I’m going to keep up my journalism skills so when I go back to work I won’t be rusty. I’m going to be all creative. I’m going to write about things that matter to me. I’m going to write about how different my life is now I’ve got a babe. I’m going to write about the great times. I’m going to write about the difficult times. I’m going to write about the in-between times. Hopefully other people will read it and get some comfort from it or get some lols from it or just enjoy it for what it is. Also maybe it’ll make me feel better about not replying to people in my new mum-haze as they can all just read this like some sort of weird public family newsletter. I’ll put Aifric down for a nap, pour a cup of coffee and write. Oooh maybe I’ll be like those people on Instagram who are all super chill with their flat whites and laptops/iPads in coffee shop gardens wearing the newest trends with their baby’s feet sticking into the corner of the photograph.’
Faye Faye Faye Faye Faye.
Come here for a cuddle.
Because you know why I haven’t written for a while?! Because, life pals. LIFE.
Let’s talk about what happens when Aifric does go down for a nap, shall we?
Well. First of all it’s an absolute race against the clock, Crystal Maze styleeee. Because who knows when Sleeping Beauty will wake from her slumber. So each day I have to prioritise what jobs to do first – what HAS to be completed and what can wait – and how quickly I can do them…
Cleaning up her breakfast / lunch. One day I decided that I’d do this after expressing and showering. FYI Weetabix and broccoli stick, guys. They stick fast and they stick hard. Do them later, do them at your peril. Because there is nothing that shouts FUN PARENT LIFE like getting down on your hands and knees and scrubbing them off your kitchen floor.
Expressing. This has to happen. It’s a priority. Aifric has one boob in the morning now she’s on solids. And we use the other boob for half of her evening milk. Sometimes I do wonder if all I spend my day doing is preparing meals for Aifric. Girl’s gotta eat. (In the heatwave she’s having two boobs and the time it has freed up for me in not having to express… JOY)
Showering. Again. This has to happen. 99% of the time it’s during nap one. 1% of the time it’s during nap two. 100% of the time I hear fictional crying whilst washing my hair. I often leap out of the shower in a suddy mess, dripping everywhere, just to check the monitor. Fictional crying… and the sound of her dumper truck or train – the tunes of both are embedded into my brain. ‘Screwdriver!’ ‘Put the rocks into the hole!’ ‘Chug-a-chug-a-choo-choo. Chug-a-chug-a-choo-choo. Here. We. Goooooo.’
Tidying the kitchen. If I can get this done, it’s ideal. Because it then sets us up for the rest of the day.
Preparing Aifric’s lunch. Needs to be done, ideally before she wakes up so it is ready. We’re doing majority baby led weaning with some purées / pouches. But this does mean courgettes and sweet potatoes need to be roasted (OMG having the oven on in the heatwave makes me want to put my head in the freezer) and broccoli needs to be boiled.
Making a coffee. Can be done whilst other things are being done. Multitasking my friends, multitasking. It’s an absolute necessity and there is no getting around it.
Having breakfast. Not sure if you have experienced me without food. I could take this moment now to issue a public apology to those who have.
Making the bed. Now I have bought us some fancy bed cushions (superfluous bed cushions), I like our bed made up a certain way (sorry for the direction you got this morning on that Simon!). And when the bed is made, the day feels like it can start.
Washing. It’d be great to get a wash on when she’s snoozing. You know what’s even greater? Getting a wash on and getting it out during one nap. Living. The. Dream.
Pelvic floor exercises. These take 15 minutes. They need to be done. But that’s 15 minutes when I could be doing all of the above. As I am no longer numero uno, they go to the back of the queue. Don’t tell my physio. Please.
Nothing. Sometimes I’d like a breather for 5 minutes just to do nothing.
And all this has to be done whilst she’s snoozing. She could wake at any time. Sometimes she stirs and I hold my breath and stand as still as a statue. As if she can sense any movement through the camera and monitor. I swear they can.
So chaps, I’d love to be sitting down writing to you all, but the above, ALL OF THE ABOVE, has to be completed first. How the bloody hell do others do it?!
Oh and also. There’s Love Island on catch-up to fit in now too. I never stood a chance.
*PHOTO: here we are, trying to get sh*t done.