But they are so noisey
But they are so messy
But the baby goes through so many nappies
But the preschooler is perpetually snacky
But they need me. All. The. Time.
Lockdown has meant that we can’t go on playdates. My Wednesday “off” where the 3 year old was in nursery, and I could spend the day napping with the baby has been cruelly ripped away from me. We can’t go to the breastfeeding group where I get to help other parents get to grips with feeding, and in turn feel like I contribute to society. It has meant that I spend all day with my children (whom I love dearly) and that I no longer get the respite of granny and grandad coming over to take them off my hands so I can make the dinner and have some adult conversation. I watch noisey kids opening toys on youtube to keep the older one quiet while I try to feed the baby to sleep. Then I lie the baby down so I can go for a sneaky toilet break and when I come back the baby is no longer asleep because her brother just *had* to kiss her.
Ughhh I love them but this is exhausting.
I’m so lucky to be on paid maternity leave so I have no worries about my income. My husband is able to work from home so I don’t worry about him getting the virus and we have no reduction in his income. But because he *is* working, I have to make sure the kids don’t interrupt him (I have visions of me being the frazzled mum from the BBC news video with my son the overly confident preschooler bouncing in to help daddy at work) and I can’t ask him for any help with the kids during the day. I wake up with the kids, spend the day with the kids, have dinner and bedtime with the kids, and then go to sleep with the kids. Even my free time in the evening I spend in the room with the kids because my son panics if he wakes up and can’t find me.
I love them beyond compare. They are my everything. I would be completely broken if anything happened to them. And yet today I would have happily given them to a passing stranger for just 5 minutes to myself. Just to not watch kids tv. To not feel like an abject failure because we’re not drawing shadow animals and painting rainbows. Im the furthest thing from an instagram mum. I couldn’t even bring myself to sing to the boy at bedtime because I’m so emotionally drained from spending all day begging him to not behave like he’s feral. But I love them. And now, I will go to bed, and try to be a better mum tomorrow than I was today.
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