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I Give up

I Give up. I wave the white flag. Call it what you want but I GIVE UP!!!

I say that as I’m sitting in bed thinking of what I must have done in my previous life.

You see I can say I Give up, I mean this Mum needs a break, I’ve got guest staying at my place – Family.

And it seems in their eyes as well as everybody else’s I don’t do anything, I sit at home all the time pretty much I’m lazy that doesn’t care about the housework that is piling up, or that there are crumbs in the lounge room. In actual fact, before I have even opened my eyes, my brain is whirling and whizzing around making a list about 3 street blocks long on what I need to do for that day and for that week – Ok not 3 street blocks but you get my drift.

I get up to find clothes that hopefully are still clean, I find my 3-year-old wanting everything from a lolly to strawberries and everything in between for breakfast. Before I even leave the house I’ve received what I call heart shocks – Thanks, PND (Post Natal Depression). I do the daycare run, sign her in, then bolt to the exit before I even have time to say ‘Hi’.

When I get home. I quickly round up all the washing, hang it out, clean the lounge room, vacuum. by the time that is all done, and it’s time to get miss 3, I look like I’ve stuck a fork in a powerpoint just for the sake of it! if not worse then what I looked like when I dropped her off that morning.

I may not ever have the tidiest house, or even win the prize for the best mum.

But my 3-year-old tells me every single day that she loves me, that I’m her best friend. That will change over the years but I’m doing my best, and at 23 my best is perfectly fine.

I Give up

I Give up. I wave the white flag. Call it what you want but I GIVE UP!!!

I say that as I’m sitting in bed thinking of what I must have done in my previous life.

You see I can say I Give up, I mean this Mum needs a break, I’ve got guest staying at my place – Family.

And it seems in their eyes as well as everybody else’s I don’t do anything, I sit at home all the time pretty much I’m lazy that doesn’t care about the housework that is piling up, or that there are crumbs in the lounge room. In actual fact, before I have even opened my eyes, my brain is whirling and whizzing around making a list about 3 street blocks long on what I need to do for that day and for that week – Ok not 3 street blocks but you get my drift.

I get up to find clothes that hopefully are still clean, I find my 3-year-old wanting everything from a lolly to strawberries and everything in between for breakfast. Before I even leave the house I’ve received what I call heart shocks – Thanks, PND (Post Natal Depression). I do the daycare run, sign her in, then bolt to the exit before I even have time to say ‘Hi’.

When I get home. I quickly round up all the washing, hang it out, clean the lounge room, vacuum. by the time that is all done, and it’s time to get miss 3, I look like I’ve stuck a fork in a powerpoint just for the sake of it! if not worse then what I looked like when I dropped her off that morning.

I may not ever have the tidiest house, or even win the prize for the best mum.

But my 3-year-old tells me every single day that she loves me, that I’m her best friend. That will change over the years but I’m doing my best, and at 23 my best is perfectly fine.