Sometimes the enormity of the responsibility of raising small humans feels just too great.
I feel bloody overwhelmed.  Anyone else?

'God, I know you are busy, but I have an idea. How about issuing us parents with a couple of extra hours a day to read the parenting books we all buy from Amazon with good intentions and articles we 'like' and 'share' on Facebook but never have the time to read to the end?
Hey, whilst you're there, how about an extra hour for us all (foolish enough to reproduce or not!), to read, breathe, remember what's important and generally just get our shit together?'

I try to make time for personal and spiritual growth, I have two daily thought and prayer for the day books that I read (almost) every evening and a podcast of HTB's fab Bible in One Year that is dearly important to me; but last night, (not for the first time since becoming a mum of two), I fell into bed with at least one child attached to me as my youngest bashed his arm around wildly to pull my hair whilst he breastfed, I turned on the podcast (it's 10 minutes 2 seconds long), and I was out before I even made five minutes I think.

My intentions are good, but my body just can't keep up with them.


I started out writing this blog post thinking that this was a 'Mum problem', but I'm now not sure the issue is exclusive.

True, I look back at my pre-munchkin days and think of luxuries I used to enjoy like taking a walk/wheel simply for the sake of it, rather than to get somewhere we are already late for; like reading papers over breakfast on Sundays, hell, just reading at all! Now I get halfway through a recipe, article or blog post I really want to read and get interrupted by being puked on, having to wipe a bottom, or as with the podcast last night, if I'm lying horizontally and both children and dog are asleep, then I'm likely to not be far off the land of nod myself! Sorry Garry!
Needs must- as with the reading, you just don't know how long the peace is going to last before another baby, toddler or dog based emergency rears its head.

"You must learn to relax and do something for you", my mum said to me the other day.

Well, I think that my mum's memory must not be as it once was, because as a mum, when I do get two minutes when both kids are both entertained/caged/asleep, I am always dashing through the hundred overdue or half completed tasks I have to do, whilst simultaneously trying to remember all 
the other tasks I still have to do once that one is completed. I then remember a phone call that is even more important, abandon first task, start said phone call whilst also trying to complete some of the first task, whilst remembering all of the other things I haven't done and am feeling guilty for not having sent overdue birthday cards/presents, filled in pre-school forms or contacted friends I used to chat regularly with pre-children, and then remember more tasks until my brain starts to become a swirling mess of what I can only imagine resembles mixed up jelly and ice cream at a kids birthday party, slowly melting and becoming useless in the sun.
As the jobs continue to get stacked up on my internal 'to do' list whilst on hold to the insurance company- all of the above have to be abandoned as the well intentioned cuddle from two year old to the five month old, has resulted in both now crying uncontrollably after a mid air collision (The Jumperoo is my best friend, despite the migraine inducing music!).

(* To you non parent readers out there- The Jumperoo, (other brands are available!) is a heaven sent bit of parenting kit, designed to let babies enjoy being upright and exploring sensory toys and most importantly let mums and dads enjoy having there arms back for the first time since the baby was born! With it, lunch can occaionaly be eaten with the luxury of two hands!!!!)

Mum, that is why I can't relax.

The other day my two year old actually went to pre-school without a meltdown and with baby asleep (for all of twelve minutes!) I actually let myself sit down on my new sofa. 
I even let myself eat some lunch on said sofa!! (Don't tell my husband though, clumsy is my middle name and with the kids asleep, it was not a situation I could even blame them for!)

I breathed. I smiled. I thought- 'Mum knows best!' and I heeded the words of my mother and let 
myself put my feet up and stick the tele on for five minutes.

Like a light switch everything kicked off!

The dog started barking at the arrival of the delivery man, the baby woke up and the phone started ringing!

And I....

Well, I wanted to pull my hair out as I thought of just how spectacularly I am failing at this multi-tasking gig us Mum's are supposed to be inherently brilliant at and everyone else seems to be.

A big part of me wanted to laugh and a small part wanted to cry; but there have been moments of late when the ratio has been in the reverse and the urge to cry has outweighed that of the one to find the whole situations I get myself into hilarious.


I wanted this. I wanted all of this SO badly.

I once had more time than most to sit and relax and watch box sets and read books (admittedly I was off my face on morphine at the time, so couldn't really focus to do much of the latter), but I dreamed 
and prayed to God that he would one day let me be a Mummy.

I got my wish, my most earnest and desperate prayer was answered, and despite the desperate tear-your-hair-out moments of utter madness, I wouldn't change any of it for the world. 

Thank you Lord.

Hopefully. God willing, there will be time one day in a nursing home, or preferably a beach house with my husband by my side, to sit and read the beautiful books on my bookshelves.

Only the other day, I read, (well, got two thirds of the way through before getting irreversibly interrupted!), a fab article about these crazy days of early parenthood being the most bonkersly busy and demanding as we try to keep the 'kids won't change me' promise to the  'not-at-the-kids-stage-yet-friends'; try to stay fit and look after our bodies for our own health and self worth and in a vain attempt to feel attractive in ourselves and to our partners- (although how anything ever happens between my husband and I when I am perpetually covered in breastmilk, baby puke or bogeys from my daughter! (Yes, despite my best efforts, the genes from Daddy run just too deep and she loves nothing more than a rummage and a wipe on any given surface. As closest to hand, that surface is usually ME!,)- or sometimes even a mixture of all three of the above.

Hey, some people even manage to hold down a job too, but I secretly think that these super-human-beings are wearing red and blue Lycra under their Gap jeans and Boden tops!

But is it parenthood, or is it modern life in general that is so busy and bonkers and seems to come with so many pressures to be perfect at everything nowadays? 

In all honesty, I personally believe it's both.

Parenthood is crazily challenging both mentally and physically. Yes, my requirement to use sticks and a wheelchair does hinder me a bit, but there's definitely some advantages to being able to zoom across the park at 12kmph when you have a super-fast toddler with a wanderlust! Or when both children just want to be held on a dog walk- although with them both growing at a superhuman rate, I wonder how much longer the three of us are all going to fit onto The Beast when breastfeeding and knee grazing and their associated need for Mummy cuddles occur simultaneously.

...I must go, as I started writing this when my baby was sleeping, knowing I had limited time I abandoned the luxury of showering or getting dressed at all and just got on with the job in hand.

Typically, smallest monkey has now woken up and although is not in distress, he is smiling and trying to talk to me in his five month old language whilst kicking me with his gorgeously tasty feet and generally just wanting Mummy's attention.

The Mummy guilt is too great and to heed my own warning- this time goes just too quick, so I should just stop, put the ever growing to-do list on hold and enjoy these couple of minutes, as before
I know it they'll be over too soon.

I'm off to cuddle him, coo back at his noises and help him succeed in his task to get all five toes in his mouth at once.
This accomplishment gives him the joy only a five month old can know- although if I still had the physical ability to do that- I think I'd be pretty blooming happy too!

I'm going to keep trying to get that illusive balance of getting the never ending list of things done, whilst also savouring the precious moments. As a perfectionist, realistically I can't ever see myself succeeding, (to a satisfactory standard anyway!), but I will always keep trying!

I guess that's all any of us can do; that and remember that we are doing our best and there's a lot to be said for that I guess.
(Can you tell I'm trying to convince myself of this as I type!)