Return

This morning I returned to work.

I spent the better part of my weekend baking, cooking, cleaning, washing, folding, ironing labels, pumping milk and getting organised.

I even pre-packed the slow cooker and put it in the fridge so all I had to do was put it in the case and turn it on.

Of course, because that's how these things work, at 11pm, just as I was crawling into bed, my daughter wakes up.

At first it's a little mewling here and there and then she's quiet.  We think that she's just having a yell and has gone back to sleep when the full blown screaming starts.  And I mean screaming.  Miss Molly has inherited Mum's lungs.

Juffin goes in and sees if he can settle her with a cuddle and a song.

Yes, he sings to her, I don't know what he sings but it works, most of the time.

Anyway, she settles quickly and goes back to sleep.  I go back to bed and try and relax, mentally running through all the things that I have to do in the morning to get to work on time.

The screaming starts again, she has realised Dad has gone.

He tries again but she's all worked up now and is not having a bar of it.

I go in.  I sing, I cuddle, I bum pat and hum, I lay on the floor next to her cot.

The crying continues.

It's now after midnight.

Administer paracetamol.

Juffin takes over again and I go back to bed and lay down but who can sleep with a baby screaming?

At 1am I go in and feed her so we can all get some bloody rest.  Boob and babies usually equals sleep but in this case it's not happening.  At 1.30 I give up.

She is fed, she is dry, she is loved, she is a shit and she needs to go the fuck to sleep.

I walk out and shut the door.

Screaming continues for another 15 minutes before Juffin can't take it any longer and he goes back in.  Exhausted I fall asleep.  It's after 2.

I have no idea what time Juffin finally gets into bed because I wake with a start to sun streaming in on my face and freaking out that my alarm has stopped working.  Alas it's only 5.  Unfortunately I then just lay there, unable to go back to sleep for fear I won't wake up in time to get myself and the kids ready for work and daycare.

So my first day back.  I have maybe 3.5-4 hours sleep.  My makeup melts off before I even get out the door, Mushroom is attempting world record as slowest shoe putterer on-nerer and Molly won't co-operate with nappy cream application and/or nappy snapping.

I am yelling, it's 7.50 and I wanted to be leaving by this time.  Kids don't care.  I throw my work clothes on and I herd slowest small human alive into vehicle and then load the 17000 bags that contain the necessary items to get my kids through the day and we get in the car.

Sweat is dripping off my face and I make it to the roundabout before I realise that I've left my glasses behind and I can't be staring at a computer screen all day with no glasses.  I have to go back to get them.  I turn around and burn back to the house.

"Why are we going back home Mummy?"

"Because I'm a fucking idiot" I grunt under my breath.

"What Mummy?  What you say?"

"Mummy forgot her glasses darling. I just have to go back and get my bloody glasses.."

I locate glasses.  As I'm rushing around my tummy grumbles and I find that my toast is still sitting on the bench uneaten so I grab that and I also spy my coffee.

Coffee that has not yet been consumed.

That's why my brain isn't working. Not enough caffeine. The 3.5 hours sleep has nothing to do with it....

Here's where I would talk about dropping my daughter off at daycare for the first time but I may cry.  So I won't.  I really wanted to find my girl a small family daycare, just like I did for Mushroom, but it just didn't happen. I couldn't find anywhere close enough and driving all the way across town and doing a separate drop off with Mushroom wouldn't work.

I'm not saying that the centre is bad, it's just not what I would have preferred for my baby girl.

Anyway we survived, she survived, she slept, she ate, she cried.  I got blisters because I haven't worn shoes in so long...

Our little bubble has burst and on Wednesday we do it all again...

We're not tired.  Sleep is for the weak!

Bananas

Remember when you were a kid and you felt sick and your Mum would say have a glass of water and eat a banana?

I don't have to do that in this house because you know what guys?  I spent 20 fucking dollars on bananas in the last 10 days.  TWENTY DOLLARS!!  ON BANANAS!

I know when my kids are sick because they WON'T eat a banana.  If my kids won't eat a banana, then they're on their death bed.

My son and daughter will literally inhale bananas.  I've never seen food disappear so quickly.  If I didn't supervise and limit the banana consumption, it would be 4 or 5 a day, each, easy, I shit you not.

I have to buy bananas 2.5kg at a time... Massive bloody bunches of the things. The one's that don't get hoovered up in 2 seconds flat turn into Banana Muffins or Banana Bread, or Banana Oat Cookies... or Banana fucking smoothies.

And you know what?  As a result of all the banana eating, I fucking hate bananas.  I'm sick to death of them.  I can barely stand the smell of banana baked products anymore and I've had enough of making them.  I have been baking some sort of banana product every week for 3.5 years.  I don't need a recipe anymore.  And now Molly loves them too so I'm destined to bake banana products forever more.

There is no point to this post.

Obviously.

I just wanted to voice my disgust with all things banana related.

Ugh.

Baby Banana Monster

Another Year

Happy New Year to one and all!  Another year is over, where did the time go?  I was going to post about how shit it's been, but ya'll have read my blog, so you know that the shift from one to two children has not been easy for me.

Well that's not entirely true, to be fair on Molly, I honestly don't think that the addition of her to our family has made life that much harder.  It's the financial issues that we have faced this year and the stress that comes with not knowing how you're going to pay your bills and afford to feed your family, that's what has made 2016 particularly hard.  It's sadly all consuming but we are still very lucky.  We both still have work and a roof over our head thanks to my very, very, understanding and generous parents and help from our families.

I have learnt so much about myself in the last 12 months.  One of the biggest realisations is that I don't handle stress well.  I cry. A lot.  And I eat.  I also lash out at my partner more than what's fair and try to blame him for all that's wrong with the world.  I don't sleep enough and I lay awake tying myself in knots worrying about things I can't change until the baby wakes up.  I don't look after myself and spend way too many hours on my smartphone comparing my life to everyone else's and wishing I hadn't eaten that second muffin.

None of this is healthy, I know.  It's like I've been in some sort of holding pattern waiting for something to happen, but reality has hit.  I'm back at work on the 23rd.  Yep.  Work.

I am scared to put my uniform on because let's be honest, it probably won't fit.  Sausage Jess it will have to be.  I have tried exercising but when you can feel your stomach popping in and out of a hole whenever you bend at the waist, you don't really want to continue.  I should probably curb the eating and I WILL try.  Try being the operative word.

It's been a mad rush this week but I've organised for Molly to go to the same centre as Mushroom.  I tried in vain to find family daycare for her, and came up short.  I'm not willing to travel 20+km when I'm only a 7 min drive away from my office now.  At least this way they're both across the road and I can duck in when needed.  I've been expressing quite regularly so have quite a good freezer stash of breast milk going... I'm a bit nervous.  I'll be honest.  Molly hates being away from me and whenever she has spent time with my MIL she cries the whole time and sleeps 20 mins at most.  Fingers crossed for a smooth transition...

Assisting with my good moods has been the addition of agonising pain leading up to and during my period which is only since having Molly. I don't think the hernia is helping but I'm pretty sure this is just the way my body is going to be now. This week I was in so much agony I could barely get out of bed.  Breast feeding means I can't take much in the way of pain relief so I feel really excellent. Endometriosis is super fun.  My Doctor has recommended a mirena but I'm nervous due to the mental factor and I already have issues controlling my emotions.  I was hoping that Juffin would get the snip and we'd be all good but due to my ongoing issues with my girly bits it seems like I may have to get the mirena so my pain and other symptoms settle down.  Being a girl is awesome... not!

So I want this year to be different.  I have tried to be positive and active but my body hasn't been co-operating.  I don't have new year's resolutions but there are a few changes that I want to make in 2017.  I'm hoping that these changes will help me cope with things a little better and be happier within myself

• Spend less time on social media and more time connecting with friends and family in real life and on the phone. 
• Spend more time outside 
• Incorporate patience into my life, particularly with my kids and my partner, as I seem to have patience everywhere else but at home.  
• Be kind to myself
• Do more good deeds 
• Start reading books again 

And, last but not least, I hope to blog more!  Sharing my blog with you, and sharing in this way in general is so cathartic.  It makes me feel less alone.  Thank you to everyone who has read, commented, and shared my blog over the last year and beyond.  It means the world.  It really does.  

 Hopefully more of this in 2017!