I read a blog this morning that was all about how we put the pressures on ourselves, as mothers, to be perfect and get everything done. The blog was super inspiring, essentially telling us to enjoy our kids and being mothers, rather than stressing about everything we have to get done.

I so desperately want to take that on board and to at least try to stop stressing about everything. But then it poses the question, who the fuck else will do it?

This isn’t me having a dig at the husband, he’d defo do more shit if I asked him to, this is my seriously asking that question.

Last night when I’d gotten home from work at 6:15pm and picked the beans up from nursery, I had to get them in the bath, then prepare their food for the next day, as well as lunches for myself and the husband, get the beans dried and in their PJs, heat up their milk and then get them to bed for 7pm.

I wanted to not prep the food, just to give the beans my undivided attention for the 45 minutes I had them before bed.  I couldn’t. I literally couldn’t. All I kept thinking about was the 100 things I had to do. Even though I had done the food for the next day, I still had to cook a shepherds pie to freeze, but a wash on, get a wash out, cook and eat my dinner…and I really needed to shave my legs and fanny.

Sometimes I feel like we can read all the inspirational shit we want, and it can work, but if we can’t change our own outlook then we’re fucked.

I don’t like having everything on my shoulders. I fucking hate it if I’m honest. But I can’t stop myself. I was supposed to be taking tomorrow off as a flex day, just to get my shit in order, but I haven’t finished what I wanted to at work so now I’m not going to.  I’m going to work at home to get it done.  But why? Why don’t I just say “fuck it”?

I annoy myself. I’m not looking for a pat on the back for my drive and dedication or any kind of sympathy, I do this to myself. I think it’s all kinda pathetic if I’m honest. I can’t let go of the control because I’m so fucking worried about it getting fucked up and I’m so desperate to please everyone in my life.

My beans don’t care if they have a sandwich for lunch two days in a row, they don’t fucking realise that I’ve put the vacuum round…and no one ever knows if I have a cleanly shaven fanny! But what they would notice, as this blog said, is that I’ve spent an hour with them playing and singing and just generally dicking about with them. That’s the memories that count.

Practically I need to get shit done. Also, I want to be a role model for the beans and show them that you can, just about, have it all. I need to find the balance though, I need to be a role model, get shit done but also spend valuable time with them. How? I’m still figuring that bit out.