I know you know what I’m talking about.
That mum list.
The never ending list of things only mums have to deal with.
I can’t be the only one that still has jobs to do from the day my baby was born?
Such as: Clearing the garage, painting the living room, fixing the curtain rail.
The jobs that stare you in the face every single day and still don’t get done.
One particularly stressful day, I turned to Luke and frantically yelled ‘The ceiling, isn’t that just stressing you out?!’
He had no idea what I was going on about.
It’s gotten to a point where I have so much on my mum list that I’ve supressed half of the tasks. I’m a classic iceberg, floating on a heap of hidden jobs to do. On top I’m keeping cool, cleaning up after every meal time, picking up toys, washing, feeding, changing, entertaining, feeding, changing, cleaning, putting to bed.
Since having Felix I’m the most uptight person there is! It’s awful! I’m nothing like that normally. But when there are responsibilities constantly niggling at you, and a billion things you’re supposed to be doing on top of that; you’re up for nothing. Nope! No interest whatsoever. Just mush.
Then when I see a large task on my list that I have suppressed? Such as the sodding ceiling. Extra mush! One huge mumma mush cake.
Having a baby/toddler is mentally draining in itself, let alone everyday household objects sending you subliminal messages.
Our laundry basket has developed the same magical qualities as the Lestrange Vault; you touch it and it multiplies.
Everything’s at it! It’s wearing to say the least.
And the only person around to help you? Is a 1 year old.
I fantasise of the day my mum list is wiped clean! The day when Felix doesn’t throw his food on the floor, and somebody else does the laundry. The day everything broken in the house, is fixed.
The day I can sit there with my toddler, playing with his toys, and my mind isn’t running through everything else I should be doing.
And to anyone who has told me: ‘Don’t worry about it, it’s not going anywhere! 🙂 🙂 🙂 ‘
… that’s the f*cking point.