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A Day in the Life of... Why you CAN'T have it all, part 2




Let’s look at a ‘Day in the Life of Kim’ –  I’ve based this on me (because I haven’ been anyone else!) though it could be any number of other women…


·       Wake up to alarm at 6am

·       Hit snooze because my stupid brain wouldn’t switch off last night and I saw the clock turn 3.06am and am so exhausted I feel hungover.

·       Haul myself out of bed, almost breaking my neck slipping on some Pokémon / Football cards that have been thoughtfully left strewn about before entering the sanctuary of my bathroom.

·       Turn on the shower – as the ‘to do’ list for day begins to play in your head (I mean in reality; did it ever stop?) “MUMMMMMYYYYYYY – I am NOT wearing those shorts!” the daily drama from the youngest about some item of school clothing not being quite right begins.

·       Get out of the shower (sh*t – forgot to shave under my arms – oh well, we’re having a crappy summer so who cares) and throw some clothes on before dealing with aforementioned ‘drama’.

·       Head downstairs – unload the dishwasher, make 17 different types of breakfast (yes – I only have 2 kids) to attempt to placate their ever changing desire, 50% of the time, when they don’t eat, give them the “there are children in this world that won’t eat today” lecture that I swore I’d never do when I was a parent – the other 50% either screaming or dishing out the silent treatment (whilst banging about the kitchen noisily).

·       Attempt to listen to one of them read whilst the other tells you that they need to make a replica of the Taj Mahal by tomorrow (ok – slight exaggeration on this one, maybe by next week) and uploading the others’ overdue homework (onto one of the 3,475 platforms school have)

·       Remember to put a £1 coin into school bags for whatever sponsor-a-thon it is.

·       Pack a no-nut, non-processed sugar, non-dried fruit (WTF?!) snack into bags (already pre-empting the disdain & reprimanding I’ll receive later when I’m informed it was the wrong one)

·       Battle with need for jacket / wellies and / or hat and suncream.

·       Rush upstairs to apply some form of make-up / jewellery to look very much “I’ve got this”….

·       Back downstairs to find a sea of arts & crafts – I was upstairs for 2 MINUTES.

·       Request offspring to please put their shoes on

·       Run about trying to find what I did with my lap top charger, whilst checking in on work emails overnight – DAMN IT; my 10am has moved to 9.30am, I’ll be lucky to make it.

·       Nip to the loo – nope, that isn’t a ‘need’ (well – with post kids’ pelvic floor it might be – again, no judgement) so that can wait until later.

·       Ask, again, for kids to please get their shoes on

·       Scan the 37 class what’s apps that have come through since first asking the kids to put their shoes on ….. SH*T it’s PE. Oh well, no time to change, school uniform is fine.

·       WRONG! Not only are shoes not being put on, the eldest is now half naked & on his way upstairs to change.

·       Have a slurp of now (at best) lukewarm tea and breeeeaaathhhhe

·       Nope, breathing doesn’t cut it, and we are no nearer to leaving …….“GET YOUR BL**DY SHOES ON” (if you’ve not watched this Michael McIntyre sketch - DO IT)

·       Youngest discovers dog muck on her shoe, has touched it (obviously) and now it’s on my dress. She’s now crying after I’ve screamed “DON’T TOUCH ME” and it’s time to clean up.

·       Oh, and run upstairs to change “MUMMY you aren’t allowed your shoes on upstairs…..”

·       ……….BREEAAATHHHHEEEEE……

·       …… and I’m ow in an outfit I’d not planned on wearing, with the wrong colour bra underneath and my 9.30am is with a new stakeholder. Great.

·       Leave the house – turn back because I (not them) forgot their water bottles.

·       Run to the school queue – not the last ones yey!

·       Scrabble about various bags for a hairband, who needs a brush when you have fingers?

·       Kiss the first goodbye – head to drop the second who uses it as a time to divulge a friendship argument the day prior & that they’re nervous going into school today – nooooo, now is not the time for deep and meaningfuls!

·       Attempt to come up with some vaguely useful sounding words of wisdom – all whilst only giving them half your attention realising in a panic that you need to locate the school sum up machines for the Yr 4 Lolly sale at lunch…

·       …. Lolly sales or getting to work for that now earlier meeting….

·       HELP!!!!!  SOS to your motherland posse (think paw patrol) and a saviour takes sum up duty off of me (all hail ‘the village’)

·       Wave the other child off, walk run to the train and finally a chance to relax…

·       … Oh no – actually, a chance to squash myself amongst all of the other harassed, exhausted, wound-up parents who have the joy of piling onto the first ‘post drop off’ train.

·       Realise that smug feeling I had putting a timer wash on last night is no longer as it’s now going to sit ALL DAY.

·       Begin to feel the familiar dull ache of period cramps (how is it possible to STILL get caught short – mental note to make a pit stop at Boots on way to the office)

·       Remember that I forgot to put on deodorant and yep, you can definitely see my bra through my top…..

 

Are you still there?

I mean I’m referring to you dear reader (ooo I sound like Lady Whistledown!) though to be fair, it’s a question that I could (and probably should) ask myself most days!

Because we all have a zillion others things to do, I didn’t continue the rest of the day though I wonder if this kind of morning resonated with anyone else?


You’ll notice there was no mention of a Dad. I am extremely fortunate to have an awesome partner in crime in my husband who also happens to double hat as a brilliant Dad. That said, his morning, even on days he’s doing ‘the drop’, look rather different (side note: I don’t have experience of being my husband, so this next part is purely my observations)


Join me in the next instalment of you CAN’T have it all for a day in the life of Ralph (my childrens’ Dad)

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