Why I have been out of action

Has it been 17 months?! Seriously, I have no time to blog. The kids are about to get up from bed and my day would be theirs, not mine. Everyday has been like this for the past three years. The homogeneity of my daily grind reminds me that there is no such thing as ‘me time’ once you embrace motherhood. The children’s father and I have not been on a real date since baby number one. We would make these grandiose plans just before the kids’ bedtime only to resign ourselves to the same nightly fate that none of them would ever materialise.

Once the goodnight kisses are softly and dearly planted on precious little foreheads and the last lights are out—as quickly as we softly shut their bedroom doors, we’d perform our ‘free at last’ dance ritual usually comprised of imaginary hula-hoop hip thrusting complete with smug circular arm rowing. Yet our victory is sadly short-lived.

Somehow, somewhere in between the bathing, feeding, pre-bedtime play, teeth brushing, nappy and pyjama changing, our batteries have become fully discharged and right now we can only muster enough energy to lay slump on the couch with our tongues hanging out.

By now there is barely enough breath left to speak yet we still waste it sighing in relief that the rascals have finally crashed. In our exhausted speechless stupor we now both share an unspoken understanding that we’ll rather be spending our ‘us time’ fast asleep than the initial Plan A (the Matt Damon action thriller & popcorn).