This week, I have officially lost the plot. Luke has, just this week, turned 10 months old and is now on his feet. He has, every room in the house, turned upside down and inside out. He has the cutest, cheekiest smile and has his big sister tortured. Leila quote of the week. “Wee man, get out of my airspace!”. I have cried, I have laughed, my blood has boiled, I had the shakes, largely due to complete and utter exhaustion. I haven’t eaten properly in weeks, i’m living on sugar, I can’t even look at food and I stupidly sit up until 12.30am sewing, when I should be in bed. Coming from a family of girls, i’ve never experienced the super active baby boy. Everyone told me that boys are different and yes, they certainly are.
Here are the signs, that I have noticed this week which mad me laugh and think I am losing the plot.
You have no idea what day, week or month it is and occasionally you have to be reminded of the year.
You are pretty sure you had a shower during the week but just incase you didn’t, you spray a little extra deodorant. If you are really unsure, you spray a little perfume to make you feel fresh as a daisy.
You haven’t spoken to the person you live with since last Wednesday and you communicate by the ‘look’ It’s your turn to make the tea.
At 3am, you are singing the words to Mr Tumble in your head and you are getting frustrated that you cannot remember the words, if any to Peppa Pig, even though it has been on the TV ALL DAY.
Mark, the delivery man from Amazon, has become your agony Uncle and knows not to ring the door bell incase the baby is asleep. God forbid if he takes a day of and its another driver you haven’t seen before.
You buy fresh vegetables in the hope that you will make something healthy but instead they turn into a science experiment. By the time you get round to making that meal, they have grown a second head or two.
You hide chocolate and eat it for breakfast and lunch.
You also eat all of your children’s naughty little treats and pretend you have no idea what happened to them.
You get upset when you run out of dry shampoo and you have to make that hard choice, do I take the children to boots or will I continue to have greasy hair and cover it up with baby powder?
You ask your husband to go to the shops and ten minutes later you ring him, shouting down the phone, “Are you growing the fecking shopping list?”.
You get extremely emotional when your Mother in Law irons your clothes and you cry when you come home from work to see them neatly in a pile. You can’t thank her enough and you feel the huge load of washing has been lifted of your shoulders.
You actually want to know what happens to Curious George.
Its becomes easier to leave toast, pancakes and fruit trails around the house just so you don’t have to fight with your children to eat. You might even eat it on the way into the kitchen.
You are totally unaware of what goes on in the real world.
Catching up with your friends means looking at their Facebook wall to see what they have been up too.
You find it acceptable to have scrambled egg and hardened Weetabix in your hair when you leave the house. Not only that but you give yourself a pat on the back because you actually left the house.
And when you do leave the house, you don’t realise that you went out in public with a red converse on one foot and a grey converse on the other. #IMTRENDY
You want to strangle your husband when you find him in the toilet and you haven’t been all day.
You have a 50min drive with both children in the car and you know you will have to sing Frozen’s Let it go, up to 15 times depending on the traffic. You convince yourself that you should be standing on stage in the Westend.
You drive from A to B and you have no idea how you got there.
You go to Tesco to get an essential carton of Innocent apple juice, you forget to buy the juice and have to drive back in rush hour traffic to get it.
You have searched the house for the item which is in your hand that you couldn’t see.
This is just a few of the signs, that I have been able to recognise, that I am losing the plot. What are yours?