Put Your Feet Up, Love.

Today was my first full day of childminding. It was less exhausting than I expected but exhausting nonetheless. My husband came home to find out just how tired I was and suggested I relax and have an early night. This was of course, after getting my son fed and to bed, washing up the day’s worth of pots and the mess made during tea, making bottles, putting on more washing, vacuuming and tidying the room. Oh and my son is still ill so punctuated by his wakefulness past bedtime.

My husband then declared himself tired from a long day of work where he could eat and drink when he wanted, go crazy and have a hot cup of tea, make toilet trips at will and even go for a walk should he have desired. So, could I please bring back his phone from the kitchen when I go in there to clean up and while I’m standing pass his bag.

When I flop, exhausted into the computer chair because my laptop is in use, he again suggests that I go to bed now. I harrumph that should I do so my entire day will have solely been about children and I just need some time to do adult things even if that is more work.

My husband then expresses concern that I do not have a social life outside the Mum-Club. Well, no. I have been trying to get one evening a week to be around pre-baby friends but by the time my night comes along I am just shattered and no good company at all.He has now departed for his weekly game of badminton.

Saturday night I am having cheap date night with my best friend. Bargain plonk and a DVD, where we will inevitably ignore the film and chatter away the evening instead.I will catch up on some of the music I am missing and we will make vague plans for the following week to go to a gig that I will invariably have to back out of because I won’t be awake long enough to get the night bus home.

Tired and children-ed out I find myself yet again flipping through news websites, leaving my unopened copy of Private Eye on the floor and slowly gravitating towards TV as my to-do list becomes uncontrollable.


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