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Time

Albert Einstein once said that “time is an illusion” I wonder if this comment was based on some amazing physicist’s insight, or whether he said it when he had 2 small boys kicking round and he spent days failing entirely to achieve anything.

My awareness of time has changed dramatically since having the children. Prior to having them, I believed myself to be really very busy. There wasn’t a spare moment. I did a stressful job in the city, it was long hours which were often extended by the need to drink slighty wanky cocktails in slightly wanky bars. At the weekend I managed to fit in the ironing of the duvet in between being so hungover I couldn’t move, and spending 8 hours shopping.  I’d probably squeeze in two trips to Costa and might even manage both Friday and Saturday nights out on the piss. I’d have some serious TV to catch up on which would sometimes take up an entire Sunday. We would take weekends out to decorate the house. This all felt terribly busy and hard work. Our diaries were booked out weeks in advance with trips to visit friends, birthday nights out and mini-breaks. Me and the Hubster were hard people to pin down. We had important shit to do.

Skip forward a few years and my concept of busy has changed dramatically. The idea that I would ever have time to iron a duvet cover makes me laugh till a bit of wee comes out. If on a Saturday I manage to find 5 minutes to have a cup of coffee with my husband, it’s like discovering a tenner in the bottom of my handbag. I’m incredibly “busy” but yet I achieve very little.

So in the words of the irritating Granny Murray (you’ll know who I mean if you regularly get stuck watching CBeebies at 6am) “Where did the time go?”

I still kind of don’t know. I swear it was only 5 minutes ago that I was begging for an epidural. But 4 and a half years have passed me by in the blink of an eye. Having children has seen me lose friends and gain friends. Hours of whinging and crying drag by, and days get lost in a haze of sleeplessness. I still don’t really know where I am half the time, and I suddenly understand what my Mum meant when she told the 8 year old me that there aren’t enough hours in the day. There aren’t. Because these hours are generally filled with the shit I don’t actually want to do. Washing to process, meals to prepare, plastic crockery to wash up, children to nag, homework to agonise over, sorrows to drown, sleep to avoid.

So what do I want to do with my time? I’m not entirely sure I know. I’m pretty sure that it isn’t asking a 4 year old 14 times to put their shoes on. And I’m confident that it isn’t scrubbing an actual human shit out of a pair of spiderman pants. I suspect that all I want is a good laugh and a good nights sleep. But I’m probably about as likely to achieve this as I am to iron a duvet cover.

Life Love and Dirty Dishes

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14 Comments

    1. Er, I think you might have read my mind. This could be my life! And the bit about the spiderman pants made me snort a bit of my lemonade (I know – party central). Love it – please know that you’re not alone! #FridayFrolics

    1. Yes, yes, and yes!! You’ve just summed up my life to the last detail!! Our life before kids was the same as yours-oh so busy with drinking, dancing, sleeping, and catchup tv… Nowadays I hate being forced to entertain, and go out every single day. The children always drive us a lot less mental when we are out doing stuff, but a lot of the time I’d just rather be doing something else!! And they literally don’t let me get ANYTHING done! If I wander off while they’re playing, they attempt to murder each other/just go mental because they want me there. So I’m often just stuck there thinking ‘if only I could just do this/that/fucking anything at all!!!!’ But then, I’m sure I’ll be sobbing into my coffee when they’re at school…. Possibly….!!
      #fridayfrolics

      1. Yeah, when the Diva started school the relief of getting one out from under my feet was massive! I achieve marginally more these days but still really very little (although can hammer through a swiss roll in no time at all!) thanks for reading lovely lady xx

    1. Haha, brilliant! But does anyone actually iron a duvet cover apart from my Mum?? She is always nagging me to iron it. Who cares, it’s in my bedroom no one sees it. If I actually had the inclination or time to iron I would start with my clothes 🙂 #fridayfrolics

      1. Ha ha, it was on my list of things I wanted to have for about 2 years before I treated myself!

    1. I love this. But did you REALLY used to iron duvet covers? I’ve never ironed a single item of clothing or bedding or anything. Even before I became a mum I embraced the crumpled look!! What would I do with my time if I wasn’t always feeding or rocking a baby, changing nappies and playing peekaboo? I have no idea… What did I do before?! #FridayFrolics

      1. Yup, just one specific duvet cover, but really thats enough to hang my head in shame….

    1. “I’m incredibly “busy” but yet I achieve very little.”

      … Are you me?

      It’s nice to know I’m not the only one who feels like this.

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