It’s 3am on a Wednesday morning. A little body has not long crept into my bed and I can feel him growing heavy with sleep. His little hand in mine feels so tiny, and yet I can’t help but wonder when exactly he got so long. It feels like yesterday he tucked neatly under my chin, his little legs wrapped comfortably around my middle like a wee tree frog. But here in the dark I can feel his cold little feet around my knees and our limbs are all in a tangle. I pull him in closer with an arm that’s starting to go numb, and try to breathe in his smell, just be in the moment and drink him in. And that’s when it starts…
My mind drifts to that email I read right before I fell asleep, and suddenly work is front and centre. I start moving through the list of things I set out to achieve at the start of the week and realise, to my dismay, that the majority remain unticked. How exactly will I get them done? Which, if any, can wait? Maybe if I speak to so and so I might get the answers to a couple of other things. If I could just get number 3 nailed then 6 & 7 should be fairly simple. But now I think about it, 6 can’t be done yet, because we haven’t done 4, and so & so will be tied up till the end of the month. I wonder if I’ll be chased on any of them? Are there any angry emails already awaiting me when I log in? It’s not really my job to be worried about half of this stuff, but if I don’t, no-one else will, and I know it’ll be worse for me in the long run. I’ll just do it, that way I know it’s done. And I don’t like letting people down. I might have to work late to get through it. But wait… I promised Bailey we would bake when I get home. I want to be there for their tea, I haven’t sat with them while they eat in days. When did I last manage to get some veggies in them? I’m worried they’re not getting enough nutrition. Is it something I did wrong with weaning? I know toddlers are fussy, but all they eat is bread, surely that isn’t good for them? Is that why their eczema keeps flaring up so badly? We really need to get more Aveeno, I’ll remind Dan to pop it on the shopping list. What else do we need? I was going to cook that new recipe for our dinner, but we also need to get Jesse’s lunch prepped for preschool. Maybe Dan could do that while I do dinner? But he has to do the shopping so maybe that won’t work. And when will I walk the dog? She hasn’t had a proper walk since the weekend and I don’t want her to put on weight again. She needs to stay fit now she’s been diagnosed with a condition. I can’t believe she’s nearly 11, where did time go? How much time do we have left? 2 or 3 years maybe? I can’t quite imagine life without her, but it’s definitely going to happen in the next few years at least. How old will Bailey be then? 6? Maybe 7? It will hit him hard. How will I explain it? How will I explain it to the twins? They love her so much, and they’ll be too young to really understand. But Bailey will. Should we try and start speaking about it, to prepare him? Or will that just make him scared? Shit, I forgot to put the insurance claim in. Are they going to cover this all? It’s going to cost us so much to keep buying this medicine. Oh, did I give her her medicine? Yes I did, I’m sure I did. Or was that this morning? No Dan did it this morning. Maybe I’m thinking of yesterday. I’ll count the tablets when I get up, she’s been having them since Monday, right? What do I have to do if she missed one? I wish we’d taken that leaflet. I must remember to remind Dan we still need to go pick it up. Maybe he could do it when he goes to the shops later. Although, I need him to drop off those Vinted parcels too. They’re already a day behind when I planned to post them and I don’t want to piss them off. I don’t want to get bad feedback. What if I missed a hole in a seam? Did I definitely list the size right? I don’t know how to do returns, maybe I should read up now just in case? Except I can’t because he’s lying on my arm and I can’t reach. And I don’t want the light from my phone to wake him up. He’s been so tired lately, and he always finds it harder at school when he’s tired. I really don’t want him to have another bad day. I just want them to see the happy, sweet boy we know he is. He is such a bright little button. I don’t want him to get labelled as the naughty kid. I just want him to be happy, but he seems to find life so hard sometimes. Just like me. Did I make him like this? Is it my fault? Maybe I haven’t been paying him enough attention since I went back to work. Maybe he’s feeling unloved. I need to get some more one on one time with him. Maybe we could nip out for a hot chocolate date when Dan is finishing the playhouse? We could take that book he brought home from the library, but I must remember to put it back in his bag because when I forgot last time he couldn’t get a new one. They’ll think I’m a bad mum if I forget again. I already forgot about no PE this week. Am I forgetting something else? I think I saw a notification about a form on the app but now I can’t remember what it said. There’s just so many notifications. And so many emails. And WhatsApp groups. And Teams DMs. And Instagram replies. And Vinted offers. And texts. When did there get to be so many different platforms for people to seek me out? I should mute them. But then what if I miss something important? They’ll think I’m a bad mum. They’ll think I’m a bad wife. They’ll think I’m a bad friend. Sister. Daughter. They’ll think I’m bad at my job. They’ll give me bad feedback. Maybe I am all those things. Why else am I lying here awake worrying about them while my sweet boy sleeps next to me? I should be making the most of this. He’s already grown up so much since he started school, maybe we don’t have many of these late night snuggles left? And the twins aren’t far behind. I can feel them slipping away from me already. Will there really be no more babies? No more feeling one wriggle deep in my tummy? No more long, lazy days lying on the sofa together while the world goes on without us outside? It hurts too much to think of that. But we couldn’t cope with another. It wouldn’t be fair on the boys. And I’m barely holding it together as it is. Maybe I’m not cut out for this work/mum life. Maybe I’m just not good enough at either. Maybe I should quit. But then how would we cope without my salary? We could definitely cut back, but no holidays, no fun days out, no nice treats… is that the life I want for us? But I’d be there. To pick them up from school and hug them when they’re sad and tuck them in when they’re tired. Maybe I’d be happier just doing that. Maybe we could cope with one more. And we’d save money on childcare. But could I physically do it all again though? I feel old. I’m so weary. My knees hurt and my eyesight has gone to shit. I feel like my brain doesn’t function properly anymore. Why do I keep coming out in hives? Another pregnancy would probably kill off what’s left of my pelvic floor. And what would happen to my diastasis recti? And the prolapse? Would they get worse? I’ve felt so consistently ill since the twins were born. I really need to book that appointment with the doctor, but it just takes too damn long. I don’t have time to sit on the phone on a work day, it was hard enough fitting in the dentist. And then I’ll have to see when Dan can be free for the kids. I’ll just wait a bit longer and see if I feel better. But what if there is something really wrong with me? What if I died? I couldn’t leave my boys. I couldn’t leave Dan. I couldn’t leave a newborn baby without it’s mummy. Ok, so we’re clear then, another baby is a stupid idea. Plus, when would we sleep? We already get so little sleep…
And then I am roused by a cry. It’s 5am and the twins are awake. So Bailey is also awake. And there isn’t much point trying to get them all back to sleep now with our alarms going off at 6, so we give in and get up and get ready for another day. Another day of trying to keep track of where I’m supposed to be and where my kids are and how everyone is doing and what I might have missed. Commuting takes up nearly three hours. 8 of them, work. We need at least a couple of hours to dress and undress everyone, feed and water them three times, brush teeth, brush hair, wipe bottoms, pack bags and read stories. So if we’re to get a full 8 hours sleep (LOL!) that leaves about three hours a day to clothe and feed ourselves, wash, floss, keep the house clean, do laundry, load the dishwasher… Pay the bills, do the school admin, book appointments… Get our steps in plus 30 active minutes, drink at least 8 glasses of water, eat 5 a day, don’t forget the pelvic floors or the post-partum physio… Maintain a skincare routine with a minimum of 5 different steps and products. Go grocery shopping, but also go to the market because SHOP LOCAL. Reply to the birthday party invites and buy a million pieces of £5 tat. Arrange our own kids birthday parties and buy even more pieces of £5 tat. Try not to cry while we pack up those baby clothes that got too small. List those unworn bits on Vinted. Volunteer for the committee, the PTA, do fundraisers, baby clubs, stay and plays. Absolutely bankrupt ourselves sponsoring everyone to do everything. Break the cycle of generational trauma. Get therapy for our own generational trauma. Read more. Be mindful. Have a hobby. Make time for one on one time with the kids. Make time for each other. Make time for ourselves. And make sure everyone knows we’re managing just fine thanks and are sooooo #humbleandblessed…. the maths aint mathing. There literally aren’t enough hours in a day to do all the things we’re supposed to do these days. There isn’t enough space in our brains for all this constantly changing information. It’s no surprise really that we’re completely overwhelmed by the time we roll into bed far too late, only for the cycle to begin again. It’s like having too many tabs open on your browser and trying to find the right one under pressure. My server is most definitely overloaded. Did I play with them enough today? Did I shout too much? Am I completely f*cking this all up? Why can’t I seem to stay on top of it all?
Well, I’m not sure any of us can really. All of us, whether we’re parents or not, are running through treacle, desperately trying to fill every moment with something worthy, something productive, something ‘of value’. I have a 50:50 partner in this and it’s still all too much. And we tell each other all the time – it’s ok to take a break. Be kind to yourself. Do what’s right for you and your family, don’t worry what anyone else thinks. And we nod and agree, we parrot that to our friends who are also struggling, we like and comment and share. But then we just… don’t do it. We fall straight back into the cycle of 3am worrying and keep plodding on. When does it end?
I’m not sure what the point of this post is to be honest. I have no answers, no hot take or sage advice. And I’m fully aware I’m opening myself up to the flood of ‘you asked for this, you should be grateful!’ comments. But maybe I just felt like getting it out might help someone. That it might in some way help me?
Either way, at least know if this is you too, you aren’t alone.
Love,
Picking the Day 