Supermum doesn’t live here anymore

I was awake at 1.30am this morning, now I have a 16 week old baby so I imagine people think that is pretty normal.  However what would you think if I told you that I hadn’t even gone to bed at that time, and that I was actually not in my PJ’s until 2am? 

I know what you are thinking – that I was a  dirty little stop out and I was going to regret that last glass of wine in the morning!

Wrong!

At 1.30am this morning I was ironing.  My life has finally hit an all time chaotic low.  When it was just me, twin one and two we had a lovely organised lifestyle that allowed me a good eight hours sleep a night.  We also had a cleaner, and occasionally when mummy got bonus at work we even had a little man who came to the door to take the nasty creased clothes away and return them cleanly pressed and smelling of roses.  We had routine, kids went to childminder, had their five a day (at least) mummy went to work, daddy went to work,  we all came home, played a while had a simple sandwich tea or for a treat beans on toast then bath, read story, go bed.  Life was good, it was manageable, and you could say I had it all….

But no I wanted more I wanted to be supermum to prove I could do it! So stage right enter baby beautiful.  However systems have flown out of the window, the house is quite simply bedlam, most days it is like living in a tumble dryer.  Maternity leave meant the cleaner was made redundant; the little ironing man has stopped even putting his card through the door.  So it’s all on me.

I just can’t do it all!  God it pains me to say it out loud but unless one puts a broom up my backside, introduces self cleaning children, and makes processed pizza healthy I cannot physically achieve all I want to between the reasonable hours of 7am to 10.30pm.  Boy it pisses me right off.

Take today, I had a friend coming for coffee with her son, she has never been to my house before, and we know we all like the house to look like it should be featured in Home and Garden for the first time someone pops in.  However at 8pm last night my house looked like Bob the builder and his team had stopped by to do some demolition.  The dog needed walking, dinner needed cooking, no one in the house had a scratch to wear as it was all piled in the laundry basket resembling the leaning tower of Pisa, school lunches needed to be made and to top it off I needed to confirm all the arrangements for a weekend in Centre Parcs that I have organised for 15 friends this weekend – oh and I had to do the Tesco shop for all 15 people for 3 days on £225 (Anika never faced challenges like this)

Just in case you were wondering how long that all took – fast forward to 2am this morning when I finally removed the broom from my backside (it is a little tender today) and went to bed.

Chaos arrived this morning with the sunrise.  Twin boy smeared cheerio covered hands down the wall that I was scrubbing at midnight, twin girl dropped milk down the cardie I lovingly pressed at 1.10 this morning.  Everyone managed to leave a present in the toilet I bleached last night.  The dog shed hair on the furniture and even baby beautiful managed to throw up on the rug.

He who helped create them managed to upturn the worm farm that twin boy created on the weekend so my dining room became a worm graveyard.  This then led to emotional heartbreak for twin boy who looked at me and he who helped create them and declared we had killed his worms.  Promising them a decent funeral later we managed to barely get the twins to school, baby beautiful down for her nap, a quick whizz round with Hoover and excessive pledge spraying in the air so at least it smells clean.  More bleach down the loo and at 10.29 as friend walked up the drive I managed to put the kettle on. 

Hurrah first thing she asked ‘does it always look like this or have you cleaned specially!’

Shhh don’t tell her!