Monday, 23 January 2017

Post Christmas Motherhood

January. The month to address the alcoholic tendencies and shit cooking skills that came to light over the Christmas period, when it was justifiable to drink wine every night and feed the kids pizza and Macds "because it's Christmas."
I should start with an intro I guess... I'm 27, got knocked up at 19 and popped my first sprog out when I was 20, my little Mowgli. Love of my life that refuses to wear clothes, keep still, listen, or generally do anything that involves calmness or serenity. No idea where she gets it from. Then came my little Buddha... named for her dimples, big belly and ability to make anyone smile if they rub that tum. I called her Buddha before she revealed her diva tendancies and learned the word NO. I love those little horrors like nothing else in the world... I should make that clear before I reveal how I speak to them, how they speak to me, or any other questionable behaviour that take place in my house.
I'll start with Christmas Day. I appreciate that's not really January but it is the beginning of my year of documenting. The spawn that stretched my body, weakened my bladder and deprived me of sleep for the last 8 years awoke at 5am. 5AM. 
Like any sane person I used my considerable skill and experience *bribery* to keep them in bed. Lasted approx 7 mins. They ran down the stairs, opened my life savings worth of crap that I purchased and stayed up til 4am wrapping, then at around 6am demanded to be taken to their Dad's. 
Welcome to being a single Mum. 
Luckily wine was received and drank and that more or less brings me right up to today.
Sat on my couch, drinking whiskey and Coke, and trying to convince a 7 year old that "Forgetting Sarah Marshall" really isn't a kids film and she should go read a book or watch Paw Patrol or do anything that will stop me going insane. 
I'm unsure how stay at home mums do it but they deserve a medal.
In the meantime I'll just try my best and that consists of a lot of baked beans and a lot of wine and a lot of love. Plus good old Netflix. 
Good luck Mummy's... my Mowgli and my Buddha are calling <>

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