Some days are perfect. You get your hair done, maybe even apply a little lippy (or a full face if you’re lucky) you get breakfast, lunch, a warm cup of something and manage to look some kind of presentable in clothes untouched by food, snot, sick or milk. Baby naps at all the appropriate times, teething is taking a day off and you make it through the day with little to no tears. Bath time goes without a fight bed time runs like clockwork and you even manage to get an early night without fuss.
Those days are an exceptionally rare and beautiful luxury.
Other days are a little different.
You wake a five after a horrid night’s sleep. Bring baby to bed for a feed (although you’ve said a hundred times your going to stop doing that) in hopes for just one more hour. In reality you lay there getting smacked and kicked in the face. You finally admit defeat and do your best walking dead impression as you make your way to the living room to start your day. You have a day filled with tears, tantrums and pulled hair (and that’s just you) You hardly get a chance to drink. You think you had that toast your other half made you before he left for work earlier but you don’t remember. You spend the entire day with baby in your arms because if you put her down she sings you the song of her people, as loud as she can, in stereo, turned up to 11! You’ve held in a pee since this morning, not changed, not even showered let alone thought about brushing your hair or teeth. Given her everything you can for teething. Skipped the bath because that fights not worth it. Given up on the story because was she hell sitting still for that shit. You’ve spent an hour in the dark listening to what feels like a form of mental torture you’ve decided to put yourself through. Before you know it the clock reads 11:45 and she’s no closer to settling. And again you do exactly what you keep saying you’ll stop doing. You bring her through to bed in hopes of her settling knowing that when he comes home your other half can pop her in the cot and baby will smile and drift without a fight.
These days are utterly soul destroying. These are the days you ignore the house work. The days you forget the diet. The strict work out schedule you are trying to implement. These are the days you make it through and sweep under the rug once done. The days you pour that sneaky gin and enjoy it more than you knew you could because you sure as hell deserve it.
These are the kind of days I do what it takes to keep the peace. Dig out that old promotional t-shirt from my days working a bar, tie a not in the back, cut a hole in he front and pop baby inside so she’s close, comfortable and safe. This way I can move as I need, drink that desperately needed pint of water and use the remote control and phone without her having a breakdown.
Those days, you’ll be happy to know are not going to be every day. They don’t last forever and you can make it through them no matter how devastating they feel.
You’ve got this mama, and you are not alone!
Love and hugs,