Being a parent is hard as fuck… 

I’m not gunna lie this shit is hard man and sometimes I want to lock myself in the bathroom and not come out for an hour just to calm myself down and remind myself I’ve got all these things to be grateful for. That, at times I completely forget about in a cloud of stress and when I sit back and read my blogs back I realise how hilarious my day has been and how I wouldn’t change my life for the world because frankly it would be boring. 

Take yesterday after school for example we as we have established in my last few blogs the smallboy child has decided he doesn’t like his high chair anymore. Now he has 25 allergies so dinner times are extremely difficult, but he wanted to sit with his sisters and so we had a floor dinner . It was amazing (despite the boy child hating food and so being mega grumpy when we handed it to him).  We don’t have room for a table and me and chris use the dining room as a bedroom as we just don’t have the space for all seven of us in this house, so can’t put one in there we all sat on the floor eating our dinner, we all talked about our days, the girls thanks Chris for dinner and were generally pretty good (this does worry me sometimes mind) 

However our evening didn’t carry on like that and I was stupid to think it would to be honest haha. 

Later on in the evening  for example B and G got sent to bed early for playing up 5.50pm instead to 6pm to be precise. Then the small boy child went to bed at 6.15pm , R at 6.30pm and A at 7.30pm. You’d think that would mean me and chris (who is poorly) could clean up and then relax for a while before bed. Hahahaha that’s never the case in my house. 7.40pm on the dot B wakes up. She’s squirming around in her bed and crying I ask her what’s wrong she doesn’t tell me (this genuinely drives me fucking insane) I inform her gently to be able to help her she needs to tell me what’s wrong this makes her cry more (because obviously the task of talking for someone that hasn’t stopped talking all day is really hard) after about ten minutes she tells me she’s got tummy ache. So I go get her some calpol and give it to her. She rolls over and (so I thought decieving little madam) goes back to sleep. 8pm R comes down stairs “mummy I can’t sleep” , “ok sweetheart why can’t you sleep” the responce is an impeccable one “I forgot how to close my eyes” by now I know she’s just trying to out off going to sleep as over the last four months I’ve heard all the reasons you can imagine not to sleep, such as , my covers fell off, I need a wee(when she has just been) , I’m to hot, I’m to cold, my toy is talking to me keeping me awake(by this she means a teddy that doesn’t make a sound) , I’m hungry, I’m thirsty, my pjs fell off by themselves, you name it I’ve heard it. Inside I’m boiling up ready to burst. I’ve so much to do and could really do without this tonight . But still I comfort her and lay her back down where she goes to sleep eventually. Once I start tidying I check the baby monitor and see B playing In her room. Ok now I’m a bit miffed, so I go sit by her side for ten minutes until she goes back to sleep … again. Fifteen minutes later G is up for the toilet and because her chest hurts (she’s pointing to her throat) more calpol given and ushered back to bed by now it’s 8.30. I finally get the cleaning I need to get done, done . Chris has washed up he’s been amazing even though he feels poorly (you know man flu is a real thing right). Looking back on it now I’m greatful my children trust me enough to call on me in the night without fear of being told off or upsetting me (I hide that shit well and am currently giving myself a pat on the back) 

Then I sit to write a blog I wrote last night that’s yet to be made public. 9.45pm the small boy child is awake and screaming he won’t stop crying no matter what I do. He’s refusing the breast , squirming through cuddles, his nappy is clean and dry. So he also gets some paracetamol although he’s not as lucky as the girls as he is allergic he has to have a shitty liquid paracetamol that smells and tastes like shit. After another ten minutes or so of screaming no matter what I try to do and me continuously shouting in my head for fuck sake child why can’t you just tell me what’s fucking wrong. He does the pointy thing indicating he’s now ready for access to the milk makers. And the cutest thing happens he is happily feeding and looks up at me, stops what he’s doing and gives me a kiss without being asked to then he pulls out the other milk maker while frantically feeding from the left and holds it as if to say “this is mine too” he is a funny boy 

After his milk he lays on my chest just cuddling me for a minute and it’s amazing knowing how much he loves me and realising I can’t be mad at him for being awake is not his fault. Although he is now wide awake and ready for the day at 10.30pm. I try to put him in his cot, cuddle him and rock him to settle him but like fuck is any of that gunna work the child’s had nearly three hours sleep and any mum of children knows that’s more than most need. So I take him down to my room so he doesn’t wake his sisters and for the next 2.5 hours he is feeding on and off , playing , laughing , doing rolly pollys intermittently stopping to give me and/ or Chris a cuddle and a kiss. Everytime I go to take a photo he closes his beautiful big brown eyes because of the flash. (That’s chocolate dribble on his baby grow from after dinner FYI ) 
Finally at nearly 1am he’s looking tired  by this point I genuinely feel my milk makers are empty like completely the now remind me of deflated balloons that have stayed tied but shrivelled over time. Do for the first time in 19 months I put some expressed milk in a bottle and put him in bed with it. He settles and goes to sleep 2am comes and que G waking up for a drink waking B up in the process as instead of just going to the bottle next to her bed she has to scream like fuck until someone comes rushing to her rescue thinking she’s caught a limb in the slats under her mattress or something. Around 3am I finally settle off to sleep by this time on the verge of tears through pure exhaustion. 4.30am R is waking me up because she wants a cuddle (moments like this melt me) I give her a cuddle and send her on her way back to bed. 5am the small boy child wakes for a feed so I get up feed him and he goes back to sleep. At some point between 5.30-7am he woke for the day but chris got up with him to try let me sleep. 7am comes I get up and am in the worst mood imaginable because I’m so tired. I get up and am greater with the boy child coming for a cuddle swiftly followed by each one of the girls these cuddles in the mornings mean so much to me as when I sit and think about it who knows when they’re going to decide they’re to old to give mummy cuddles before doing anything else in the morning so I make the most of them and squeeze every ounce of love I have into my children. A who I’m still convinced is I’ll then tells me she knows I had a bad night with her sisters and so will be good and helpful and she is . The before school routine is pretty smooth even given the fact on Thursdays I take my friends little boy to school also (if you ignore mummy shouting occasionally after having to ask G to put her shoes on ten times or R to put her coat on fifteen thousand times) . 

Back from school run now only two children at home and this is when this mornings fun started (they have truly driven me insane in the last hour it doesn’t mean I love them any less though) 

The small boy child is screaming to get out of his buggy, which I was surprised he let me put him in this morning (he must of known mummy was not in the mood) because he wants some more milk and his breaskfast . So I get him out, feed him, make his and B’s coco pops and pop him down next to her so they can eat if only it was that simple . Nope I have no idea why but he’s decided they need to be all over my nice clean fucking floor and then he’s got upset about it (maybe he’s saving me the job of being upset about it) and having a tantrum. Wonderful, just wonderful ! So I pick them up and he calms down and sits and eats them. 

He finishes his breakfast and of course wants B’s I’m in the kitchen getting him some more and walk back in to him pulling her hair and her screaming with cereals everywhere (as I have mentioned before thank fuck for dry cereals) so I’m not breaking up a fight between a 19 month old and a 4 year old (after taking a couple quick snaps of course) how the fuck he is so small but winning this fight is beyond me but is pretty impressive as B is the loud , outspoken and “naughty” one. Not one other child in this house including A who is 8 have the balls to fight with her because she always wins. So it’s clear to me I should be proud the small boy child has got balls. 

I calm them both down B has some more cereals and tells me “mummy you’re fabulous I love you” melting my heart and making me forget about the last hour of stress, and the small boy child is demanding the milk makers…. again. 

So now I’m sat here feeding a coco pop covered small boy before changing his clothes and putting him to bed, while B is stood next to me with another box of cereals wanting more breakfast. So I can clean up my new fucking coco pop carpet ( and a random welly boot) I did not order, before maybe drinking my tea chris made me at 7am (it’s now 9.15am) and getting myself something to eat (if I’m lucky) 

I hope you enjoyed my morning more than I did. 

Much love 


Author: workingbreastfeedingmumof5

I am a working , breastfeeding , mum of five. My days are interesting , stressful and hilarious.

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