Being a parent is absolutely nothing like I thought it would be. The tiredness, the level of patience required, and the everyday repetitiveness came as a bit of a shock. Don’t get me wrong, I love my two small people more than life itself, but is it any wonder that I’m looking increasingly like I should be expecting my letter from the Queen any day now…
I thought I’d do a run down of the average day in the life of us.
00.35am – Oh my god there’s an actual fire engine in our bedroom, what is that f*cking noise?! Oh shit it’s the monitor telling me to check the baby. I fly out of bed as if a rocket’s gone off in my rectum and sprint into Daisy’s room. The plonker has rolled off the sensor pad. Thank f*ck for that. I start breathing again and reposition her. Zac then chivalrously offers to take the monitor in case it happens again. It then takes the best part of an hour for me to fall back to sleep as my blood pressure and heart rate return to normal.
3.15am – A repeat of the above (except substitute me with Zac). Sensor pad is removed, snapped in half and thrown out the window. Ok, not really, but it’s turned off.
5.30am – Daisy wakes for a feed.
6.30am – Zac’s alarm clock goes off.
6.50am – Theo’s awake. I send Zac a text (knowing full well he’s sat in the living room watching Sky News pretending not to hear him) simply saying ‘Theo’. I then put a pillow over my head because I’m really not a morning person. Luckily Zac gets the hint and I can hear him getting Theo.
7.05am – I can hear a commotion in the kitchen. Theo’s hysterical because Zac is getting his breakfast ready and is putting milk on the weatabix. Zac sounds surprised even though this happens every morning. I groan and get out of bed and go to distract Theo from the torment he is being subjected to.
7.15am – Theo has finished breakfast. Most of it is in his lap as he’s still learning to use a spoon.
7.20am – Zac skips out the door for work (literally). I don’t blame him to be honest. I’m in a foul mood because I can’t stop thinking that if that bollocking sensor pad hadn’t gone off TWICE we would have had a solid sleep from 10pm to 5.30am.
7.30am – I change Theo’s nappy and get him dressed, then put Peppa Pig on. Eat cake or biscuits for breakfast. Make a strong coffee.
8.00am – I have my daily phone call with my mum and pretend I’ve had fruit and yogurt for breakfast when she asks.
8.30am – Get dressed. Notice Daisy’s vomit from yesterday on my jeans. I search for a clean pair and spy the overflowing washing basket with a heavy heart. I grab a baby wipe and give the jeans a good going over, feeling pleased with my handiwork. For the zillionth time in my life I thank the lord for baby wipes.
8.40am – Daisy wakes up. She gives me a delightfully gummy grin, and looks at me as if all her dreams have come true. This lifts my spirits and pulls at my heartstrings. Then she goes bright red and I realise she’s started doing a massive sh*t. We are entering dangerous territory as her nappy is already bursting at the seams with wee from the nighttime. Code yellow!!! Too late, it’s all up her back.
9.15am – The children are all dressed and ready to go. (Daisy’s just had an early morning bath to get the poo out of her belly button as the baby wipes just weren’t cutting it this time). I put both kids in their car seats. Nappy bag packed. We’re off for a play date at a friends house. At the end of the road I quickly double check both children are definitely in the car. Result.
11.20am – We arrive home. I deploy ninja moves to pick up a sleeping Daisy out of her car seat and transfer her to her cot. I tell Theo to ‘shhhh!’ as he decides the first thing he must do as soon as he walks into the living room is grab Percy and Gordon and start banging them together whilst omitting a blood curdling scream. Mission accomplished, Daisy’s asleep in her cot. I temporarily feel like supermum.
11.21am – Feelings of being supermum quickly evaporate as I walk into the living room and realise Theo’s somehow trodden in cat sh*t in the 5 yards between the car and the front door and it’s now smeared all over the living room carpet.
11.45am – I’ve cleaned Theo’s shoes although the smell of cat poo will inevitably stay at the back of my nose and throat for the rest of the day. I wash my hands until I’m certain I’ve removed a few layers of skin, then get Theo’s lunch ready (dairylea on white bread, cheese puffs, cucumber sticks which he will ignore, and a banana which he will also ignore). Im too worn out to make myself anything so I settle for a cracker, a packet of biscuits and a toxic Aldi energy drink.
12.05pm – Theo’s eaten half his sandwich and all his cheese puffs. It’s like the cucumber and banana are invisible, or laced with rat poison. Time for his nap. I read him a story and put him in bed. He gives me a huge cuddle and a big kiss which completely melts my heart. Those supermum feelings start creeping in again until I hear Daisy waking up. Synchronised naps are for wimps. I’m not jealous.
12.10pm – I feed Daisy her bottle.
12.25pm – I get carried away trying to make Daisy giggle and end up playing aeroplanes. She vomits on my head (including in my mouth). I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Using a flannel I remove what I can of the vomit from my hair. No time to wash it properly, obvs.
1.45pm – Theo’s still asleep. I begrudgingly wake him up knowing that if I don’t we will be in for some crazy shit tonight.
1.50pm – I put a Thomas film on and ignore the housework.
2.45pm – I feed Daisy again whilst Theo finishes the rest of his sandwich from lunch as I haven’t cleared his plate away yet. Daisy falls asleep again so I put her in her cot.
2.50pm – I pour myself another strong coffee.
3.00pm – The coffee kicks in. I get a burst of energy and get Theo’s easel and paints out. Let the chaos ensue.
3.07pm – Theo decides he wants to play with his trains instead. I clean up the paint things and come away with a small green paint splodge on my cream jumper. I consider this a success compared to the war zone from last time. It looked as though I’d hosted a paintball party in my living room.
3.20pm – I use the paint splodge as an excuse to get into my PJs… I detour past the kitchen on the way back to the living room and grab a slice of cake. I eat it quickly before Theo catches me. Feeling guilty, I take him a box of raisins.
3.30pm – I put Peppa Pig back on through gritted teeth after Theo makes several obvious snorting noises whilst pointing at the TV. He then orders me to sit in his playhouse for the next 40 minutes. He screams every time I try to leave. I don’t want him waking Daisy so I realise I have to stay put. My bum starts to go numb.
4.10pm – Daisy wakes up. Theo hears her on the monitor and suddenly wants a cuddle.. I comply then explain to him that I need to leave the playhouse. He shouts at me. I point at the TV. He stops when he remembers his hero, Peppa, is on. I run from the room whilst he’s distracted. Yes, I’m scared of my toddler.
4.15pm – I feed Daisy a bottle whilst trying to read Theo a story at the same time. One of them fidgets and they bump heads. They both start crying.
4.30pm – I pre-heat the oven then select some beige food from the freezer. I throw in some sweetcorn to mix things up. This is where the real descent into zombification occurs. I can feel my limbs getting heavier as I begin to trudge through the final 2 hours before bedtime.
5pm – Zac rings to say he’s just left work. I feel my spirits lift knowing that in 45 minutes I’ll no longer be outnumbered by tiny people.
5.15pm – I put the beige food into the oven.
5.45pm – Zac arrives home, we all eat our beige food. Daisy sits on Zac’s lap hungrily looking at our meal like a vampire ogling it’s next victim. 7 weeks to go until weaning… allegedly.
6.15pm – Zac starts looking at some new power tools he’s ordered that arrived today. We bought our house as a ‘project’, a bit of a mental thing to do when you consider Theo was 3 weeks old when we exchanged. Zac’s next task is the bathroom hence the fancy new tools spread all over the living room. He starts saying things like ‘multi tool’ and ‘right angled drill’, so I yawn and quickly excuse myself to clean up the dinner, leaving Zac, the power tools and the children in the living room.
6.30pm – Bath and bed for the kids.
7.05pm – Using my last ounce of strength I tuck Daisy in whilst Zac reads Theo a story about a train (the same one selected by Theo every night). We finally collapse in front of Netflix to watch an episode of ‘Orange Is The New Black’ with a Cadbury Dairy Milk each. I know, I know, evenings are wild in our house.
9.30pm – After a delightful shower removing the rest of Daisy’s vomit from my hair I’m tucked into bed mentally preparing myself to go through it all over again tomorrow.
9.40pm – Just as I’m drifting off I suddenly remember I haven’t kissed the children goodnight as I always do when I come up to bed. I leap out into the darkness and fumble my way across the landing. Watching them sleeping is one of my favourite moments in the day. Partly because they are unconscious and are therefore more manageable. But mainly because they look so utterly perfect. It makes me realise how little and dependent they are. They have no idea about life yet, I am literally their world. Yes I moan, because let’s face it, it can be f*cking hideous at times, but I love being a mum and I damn well wouldn’t have it any other way.
At the back of my mind I know that one day I will yearn for the monotony. It’s the little moments that make my day worth all the effort. Theo looks at me with total wonder when I build him a mega train track. He’s always available for a cuddle and seems to instinctively know how to lift my spirits when I feel like I’m failing at this mum business. And Daisy is the missing piece to our little family jigsaw. She’s so incredibly jolly and giggly. Life is challenging at the moment, but looking at these two tiny terrors I know in my heart I’ve done something right.