Right, here we go. I decided to set up this page thing in order to give myself somewhere to share/vent my experiences as a stay at home mum to two young children.
I have Theo who will be 2 next week, and Daisy who’s 4 months. My husband, Zac, works full time so I spend most of my week trying to please two tiny demons, meanwhile keeping my home moderately tidy and clean and ensuring some sort of dinner is on the table at 5.45pm. Yes I am pretty much a 1950s housewife (one who swears a lot and wear pyjamas all day).
Did we plan a 20 month age gap between our children? Hell. No. To say it has been shock to the system adjusting to having two under 2 is an understatement. I have zero control over what happens in my home. Exploding poos are a daily occurrence in our house (luckily rarely from myself, I meant the children), and we have thundered our way into the terrible 2s right on time with my eldest. Just when I think I have things under control and feel a tiny bit like Super-Mum, the illusion is shattered by one or both of my offspring.
For example the other day I was changing Daisy’s nappy with one hand, changing the TV channel to Peppa Pig with the other and cradling the phone under my chin politely asking my husband when he might be home from work that day.
At that moment Theo starts wiping something on my trousers. I can’t believe it, he’s found my secret stash of chocolate down the side of the sofa and is now wiping melted chocolate on my new pair of jeans! He grins at me and I can see my precious chocolate all round his mouth (this chocolate is what gets me through the challenging parts of every day, probably why I’ve put on rather than lost weight since giving birth to Daisy). Then he says “yuck yuck yuck” and I pause mid-way through a telling off. Something is not right. He would never say yuck to chocolate. I look down at my trousers again. I have stopped breathing because I have just realised, THAT’S NOT F*CKING CHOCOLATE.
Yes my child has just reached inside his nappy, pulled out a handful of his own shit, eaten it, decided it wasn’t for him and is now wiping the remnants on me. At this point I throw the TV remote at the TV, leave Daisy lying half naked on the floor and tell Zac to “f*ck off” and hang up. I debate calling 999, but decide to try to stay calm.
I get myself and Theo completely undressed in the kitchen and chuck everything in the washing machine (after briefly debating whether or not to burn our clothes). I wash his hands in the hottest water I think he can tolerate (he tells me it’s too hot but unless his skin is melting off I think we are fine). Then I send a quick message to a friend with older kids asking if I need to go to A&E and if my child is normal. I start to wonder whether we can afford counselling for Theo (and myself) when she replies and says the same happened to one of her children a while ago without any noticeable repercussions, phew.
I get us dressed in new clothes, finish Daisy’s nappy change and try to move on with my life. I’ve never looked at Theo in the same way since though…
Other than the odd disturbing experience such as the above, daily life is pretty repetitive. In fact I can pretty much narrow down the top three sentences said in our house every single day:
1. “What the f*ck is that smell?! I’ll light a candle”.
2. “Where did that vomit come from?”
3. “Daddy will be home soon!” (Through very gritted teeth).
I realise having children is a blessing, but if one more person tells me to treasure every moment while they are still young I swear I’m going to shove one of Theo’s post-McDonald’s man-poo nappies in their face.
I know one day I will look back on these days through rose-tinted glasses, but in the moment right now it feels like I have to mentally prepare to go into battle every time I wake up in the morning. Everyday I am a walking vomit bucket, punch bag, climbing frame, and feeding/nappy changing machine.
Being a mum is a full on roller coaster of emotions that nothing and no one could have prepared me for. I feel a sense of excitement (and overwhelming dread) wondering what the next few years have in store for us.
This was only ever going to be a short introductory post as it’s Saturday morning, the husband is having a lie in (from his hard week sitting on his arse in the office surrounded by bacon sandwiches and adults), and Theo and Daisy have done synchronised poos (something they are very good at, the same sadly cannot be said for synchronised naps). By the smell emanating from Daisy I’m gonna need a change of clothes for her. Over and out amigos.
*(Apologies for the number of poo references in this post)*

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