In. My. Ear.
Inconsolable, my teething baby.
(Yes, I’ve ordered him an amber teething necklace. From Australia. There is none here!)
It was 1.30 in the morning before he finally fell asleep, exhausted, on my chest.
I don’t remember what time I slept.
I do remember getting up at 6 o’clock.
Giving my full attention to my children.
The ones I wanted with all my heart.
And still want, of course.
I love my children.
(Did I even have to say that? Yes, I do.)
Toys thrown on the floor, crumbs everywhere, people to be fed.
Do, do, do.
The small people, refusing a nap.
Can Mama have a nap?
On my feet all day.
Because if I don’t, I may just be in a heap on the floor.
“Hi Mummy. Happy Birthday! Sorry I took so long to call, this is the first time since 6.30 that I’ve sat down.”
Post ideas in my head, swirling.
Needing to be out. To be written down.
My tea is getting cold. Fuck.
(Again with the F word. Sorry about that.)
Ever have days where they all just blend into one long day, and they just kick. your. ass?