Wasn’t sure I was going to come up with any resolutions, partly as most of the brain cells I have left following two pregnancies, two births and this ongoing insanity of parenting revolves around the domestic chores I need to do.
Today, it was my “day off”. Mr Mother Fudger and I decided during the Christmas break – he has two weeks off, pure bliss – that we would give each other a day off, one of us take the babes while the other lazes around watching TV, having a lie in, doing what we damn well pleased. And today was my day. I slept in till 11am. Well I woke up at 2am to find child one in bed with us AGAIN. We don’t even wake up and then she’s there, muscling for the little space we have in our bed. But her snuggly little face is so hard to feel annoyed at, so I cuddled up for 30 minutes until my shoulder was aching and I returned her to her bed and both children slept until 8.15am. YAY.
After the morning interlude of Mr MF saying the children could wait for their breakfast until he drove to his parents’ house, followed by me saying “can you not hear your son crying, that’ll be for his breakfast” and me shouting out things he had to take “nappies, remember nappies….milk, remember to take the baby’s milk…..have you got spare clothes…and fruit, I mean they need some healthy snacks” during which I heard Mr MF close the door and shout goodbye, so I decided to go back to sleep.
When I awoke again at 11am, I thought about how I would fill my day: start cracking through glorious hours of television I have recorded; break open some new novels I have been trying to read; laze in bed all day or do some writing.
Reality: I had a dirty urge to clean. Not the usual mountain of daily cleaning, but scoop up dust that’s been lying around for weeks and get the sofas out and hoover. I know, what a saddo. What an utter bore I have become. So cleaned I did for approximately five hours. I have come to the conclusion this is due to some kind of going back to work nesting. How the bejesus am I supposed to get the sheer amount of domestic duties done when I’m working again? Waaaaaaah.
But it did give me time to think of some resolutions:
*stop listing domestic chores to Mr MF to win the “who has had a harder day” game
*spend less time on social media sites
*spend more time writing, as in proper writing
*wear more lipstick, this will please not only my mum but my dead Nana who never left the house without a “full face” on. My sister and I must be eternal disappointments.
*shift the baby weight
*read three classic novels this year
*find a way to fulfil myself professionally (this does not include cleaning)
*try knitting with my hands (Pinterest, see point two)
Right, must go and check Facebook/Twitter whilst telling Mr MF all the things I achieved today.
Happy New Year folks and if you have any resolutions then good luck!
PLEASE NOTE: the novels will not include Cider with Rosie which I tried last year and read about 40 pages before realising Laurie Lee just described things, endlessly. I am verbose, I know verbose but seriously, this pushed it to the extreme. Nor will it be Down and Out in Paris and London as basically George Orwell was having a bad patch. It won’t be The Hobbit or Lord of the Rings. Same, same but different. And neither will it be parenting books as I have had my bloody fill.