I’m the Mum who…

I’m the Mum who doesn’t wash her hair…. two weeks in a row. I have washed my hair on the Monday morning before work and then failed to wash it on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday morning. If I could, I would put ‘hair washing’ in Room 101. It is the thing that is always at the bottom of my priority list and always gets dropped. You’d think that as I start by 5.30am every day, I would have loads of time, but clingy babies are not conducive to hair washing. I have now developed a trade mark dirty hair look. If you see me rocking a bun, it’s been another bad week. Then Friday rolls into the weekend and I figure why have clean hair on a weekend? I’m going to be swimming, and will have food mashed into my hair, and will have it tied up to avoid being pulled out anyway…then its Monday again. I’m undecided if washing my hair once a week is genius or disgusting at this point, but either way I can’t see it changing anytime soon.

I’m the Mum who hates tooth brushing…. That’s brushing #SHJM’s teeth, not my own. Again, this would go into Room 101. The palaver of tooth brushing just irritates me. Brushing a toddler or three-nagers teeth, requires an exact procedure to be followed (although I swear the tiny dictators change the requirements daily), then you end up with more toothpaste in the sink / floor / on your work dress / in the child’s stomach, than on the actual tooth brush or teeth! There is also normally a negotiation, (or full on battle), to get the teeth brushing done in the first place. To add insult to injury, you have to do it twice a day! I haven’t even taken #SHJM to the dentist yet, (I am aware I probably should have) but a friend told me she took her two-and-a-half-year-old, and the dentist suggested flossing!!! I can’t be dealing with a similar experience, or to add another unachievable task to the daily ‘to-do’ list, so have chosen to bury my head in the sand. Baby teeth fall out anyway right?!

I’m the Mum who would love to join you. When I get invited to a day out, a dinner, a party, a weekend away, an after-work drink. I normally respond with “I would love to come, but…”. It always sounds so un-genuine. However, I would really love to. I’m being truthful. It sounds loads of fun, I want to catch up and I know I would enjoy it. I would like to pretend even for a minute I can just say the first part of the sentence, and replace the ‘but’, with an exclamation mark…. ‘I would love to come!’. Sadly, the but is there. The ‘Nichole’ me, wants you to know I really want to do it. However, the Mum / employee / wife just can’t say yes. I know in only a few years, I will be able to send messages with the sentence ending in the exclamation and not the ‘but’. For now, please know, as happy as I am with the reasons I can’t come, I would love to be there too.

I’m the Mum who always over commits… I’ll bring this, I will get that, I’ll host. Similar to my above point, I genuinely want to volunteer and am very happy to. Don’t get me wrong, I like it and I genuinely offer. Then when I’m up at 10.30pm at night frantically doing an online shopping order, when I should be maximising sleep, to get everything we need for the said offers, or trying to work out how I can physically fit it all in, I do think I should learn to keep my mouth shut sometimes.

The thing that reassures me when I do get in over my head, is that all the other Mum’s are in exactly the same position, always trying to do it all. They may not be juggling the same balls, but they have just as many in the air.

Mummy Milne xx

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