Hi Ho Hi Ho…

“It’s off to work I go…”

This is the song I sing in my head every morning as I drop the baby off and run into work. It’s quite apt as I truly relate to all dwarves …

  • Doc. – hand me the calpol, and the nurofen and the ashton parsons, and the bonjela
  • Sneezy – there’s only so many times your kid can kiss you on the mouth whilst blowing bubbles of snot before you’re gonna catch it
  • Dopey – what did I come into this room for?
  • Bashful – going to baby classes, pretending you like the other mums
  • Grumpy – when she won’t go to sleep
  • Happy – when she does

And of course my bezzie

  • Sleepy. … no explanation needed (my grey hair is a ringer for his too)Image result for the 7 dwarfs sleepy

This post has been a long time coming as i’m now back full time and quite honestly between having a day job and the 24 hour job of being a mum I don’t get much time to even fart these days.

I love being back at work. Firstly, I think it’s because I love what I do and that’s important but secondly because i’m not ashamed to admit – being a mum is the hardest job i’ve ever had, organising financial conferences is a piece of piss in comparison. things that pissed me off before don’t compare… “What was that Mr CEO – your car transfer didn’t turn up (even though you hadn’t asked me to book one?) – no probs sir, i’ll fucking piggyback you there…”

Looking back it was probably about 9 months in that I started to get twitchy, there’s only so many nursery rhymes you can sing in one day before you are willing your child asleep so you can crack that bottle of wine in the fridge. (current fave is a rosé Malbec from the Co-Op – £6.99 knock yourself out!)

Going to work means I get to hang out with ADULTS yeaaaah – however what I have noticed is that chat about going out and getting wasted last night are a thing of the past and it’s now more of a comparison of how many hours sleep we got and should baby shit really be that colour?!

Layla goes to nursery and the first time I dropped her off she tootled in without a care in the world. “ok byeeeee”. Picking her up that evening was a different story – we’re made to wait outside whilst they do one last nappy change and clean their faces and I could hear her from the road screaming like she was next in line for the slaughter queue. When she saw me she clung to me like a monkey – I literally could have let go and she still would have been hanging there for dear life. The next day followed suit with her having to be peeled off me whilst the other mums watched on in pity “ahhh mine used to be like that so I gave up work because I missed them so much” … fuck off.

Around day 5 it seemed like we’d turned a corner and she went running in without a second glance calling one of the key workers “mama” … errr ok?! That was my first pang. I didn’t feel sadness, regret, more relief. It’s not that I don’t love my child, it’s just that she’s hard work and i’m the first to admit it. She’s full of energy, loves climbing on things that collapse, runs instead of walks and if it doesn’t involve glitter, flour or anything else that isn’t easy to pick up off the floor; gets easily bored (my mum has already asked if i’ve looked into what age kids get ADHD?!) so nursery is most definitely the place for her.

I’m slowly starting to get into a routine and it looks something like this:

  • 05:00 – Husband’s alarm goes off, he springs out of bed and clomps round the house like a baby elephant in tap shoes. I pray silently he doesn’t wake the baby…

a) he doesn’t and I go back to sleep until my alarm goes off at 6:30

b) he inevitably does, he doesn’t hear her cries because he’s too busy spending half an hour in the shower washing every hair on his body and I go in to crying child, lift her into our bed hoping she’ll go back to sleep, eventually give up around 5.30am – go into the living room and whack Raa Raa the Lion on youtube.

05:30 / 06:45 Bottle gets given to child whilst i race off to the shower in the time it takes her to drink it

07:00 I attempt to get dry and dressed whilst child bursts into bedroom, demands story time / tips the contents of my make up bag onto the bed/ spills water on herself /plays with daddy’s glasses / walks on his iPad… Cue singalong time, whilst i draw on my scouse-brows and attempt some sort of “hair do” which ends up more of a “hair don’t”

07:30 Mummy is dressed and has enough make up on so she doesn’t look dead, chases Layla around the house to try get her out of pyjamas. Eventually she gives in when I bribe her with “putting cream on” – this is a new thing where I put moisturiser on her hands whilst I change her shitty nappy and get her dressed, she’s fascinated!

07:45 Bags packed, hers and mine – off to nursery. Sing nursery rhymes all the way like a deranged school teacher.

07:55 Patiently tap feet outside nursery waiting for gates to open at 08:00

08:00 kids gets lashed to her other “mama” and cue mad dash to station to catch the 8:22 into London

09:00 get into work, order the biggest coffee ever. Day usually consists of spreadsheets, bullshit meetings, bullshit conference calls and more spreadsheets

4:30 leave work in attempt to get the 4:37 train to Essex, usually miss it and end up on the 4:42 meaning I then race to nursery and arrive hot, sweaty and praying the won’t fine me for tardiness!

Eventually get home and manage to squeeze an hour of playtime in with the babe, where she’s usually so tired she snarls me until she gets her “bok bok” – Scouse for bottle.

6.30 bath and teeth

6.45 – 7.00 she usually passes out after my rendition of “there’s a ship coming in from Bombay… (good old Scouse folk tune!) whilst I sneak out the room like a ninja, hug that bottle of wine and get the tea on for husband who usually gets in around 8. We eat, watch Sense8 (new Netflix fave) I decline his offer of “cuddles” – that’s what got me into this fucking state mate and then pass out around 10:00pm.

On a good night she sleeps through, lately i’ve been woken in the early hours by a whinging child – fuck you TEETHING!!!! Waiting in anticipation of my morning wake up call…

And there you go kids, hats off to those full time stay at home mums, hats off to you working mums.

Stay strong x