It’s Sunday. It’s my “day off”. Well a day off from work. But it’s 5.20pm and I have spent nearly three hours doing payroll, managing the next months rotas, drew a fucking boots mind map ( although it is pretty epic ) and I’ve also put washing away, put a new load on, hung that washing up, emptied the dishwasher, cleaned the bits that didn’t clean in the dishwasher (why does that happen?!) cooked pizza, cut pizza into super , tiny slices of pizza fit for a mouse as every slice seems to be “too big” for my 2.5 year old. I have been emailing, texting , messaging the work whatsapp group..
I don’t stop.
And this is why mummy drinks.
Noo is getting through his 50 tiny slices of pizza and it’s taking forever because there are so many god damn slices. Oh, did I mention that he has insisted on having two drinks too? Juice, not Mummy’s kind of drink.. Let’s just clear that up.
I am half way through my HR degree. It’s great. Very informative. Lots to learn. Just love it when I have 12 hours to write a 4500 word essay as I’ve left it to last minute as I haven’t had a day off or even a minute to sit down in the last 986 days. Yeah that’s right, the age of my child. 621 days back to full time employment. 305 days doing my HR degree, and 274 days of my retail NVQ .
This is why Mummy drinks.
Above everything else, I have a wedding to plan. 265 days.
To be fair, we’re pretty on schedule. Although the copious amounts of pom poms I have hand made over the last year is beyond belief , check out my insta for pom pom updates LOL.
How do I fit it all in?
I drink and believe I am superwoman.
I never knew how much I actually do until a Sunday, because on a Sunday I have to not only finalise the last week of work but plan ahead for the next week. It never ends. I also have to change pants (Nicky’s not mine) , watch The Bee Movie (Sunday favourite, and Monday, and Tuesday, and Wednesday, you get it) , build a train track , do painting, play playdoh (although that is Matt’s favourite) , take the boys out shopping for food , do washing for the week, study , tidy up , sort recycling , bathtime, milktime, bedtime, be a mum , and be a partner.
Nicky got upset earlier as I wouldn’t give him a third bowl of skips.. don’t judge that I gave him two.. I mean skips are made of air, but three really?! I can’t even manage that. His poo will ultimately smell like prawn.
It’s 5.50pm and pizza has finally finished . Behind me is the TV playing the most annoying American baby songs. I watched American Horror Story earlier, I can only imagine what kind of nightmares I will be having tonight… Floating giant men with the background music of “pjammas are good for you, monkeys like pjammas, we like them now”.
Thank the lord that Matt cooks for us, I mean I would just die. Actually to be fair, if I cooked , we would die.
I just had the poo summons.
Yep, you guessed it, smelt like prawn.
And this is why Mummy drinks.
Over and out.