The only things I really do now is watching episodes of random television shows, keep my kids alive and work.
I can not remember the last time my husband and I had a date night.
I can not remember the last time I had a chat to any of my few friends about anything unchild related.
I can not even remember the last time I had a piss without an audience.
Last week I got diagnosed with anxiety. Something I did not even agree exsisted till I had a nocturnal panic attack. (not going to lie, it kind of scared the shit out of me). Wasn’t until the doctor asked me if anything stress related had occured, I took as step back and actually analysed my life.
Typical week involves me doing nursery runs, getting about five hours sleep a night, changing dirty nappies, and the usual washing/cooking/cleaning that any house wife would do. But then I have to get my uniform on and do my second job which usually does not finish till after 12am. Then it starts again.
I miss me time. So much. I know when your a mom to two under five you have to give it up. All up. But now the youngest is two, I’m struggling. I don’t have a support network like I used to have with my first child. And I certainly don’t like to admit I can’t cope.
I find myself asking my kids if mommy can have just five minutes to herself without them fighting or throwing something at each other.
I remember going through a stage like this when my daughter was about two and a half. I know it passes but a five minute break would be lovely. To be able to finish a coffee while it’s still hot.