I knew it was going to happen at some point – and on Saturday I became a blubbering idiot and cried because I couldn’t clean the bathroom.
Now we all know our hormones and emotions are all over the place during pregnancy and just afterwards, but after three months I thought I would be fine by now. Obviously I was wrong.
From the stupid to the more serious, suddenly everything was annoying me or upsetting me, and I ended up bursting into tears when my husband rang me from work to see how I was.
It was all because a quick ten-minute clean of the bathroom turned into an hour-and-a-half epic battle.
Teething had struck my poor little baby girl and every time I managed to soothe her, she started crying her eyes out the second I put her down.
Couple this with an enthusiastic two-year-old who keeps pleading ‘mummy come and play with me’ every few moments, and my cleaning efforts went out the window.
Despite my best efforts to get him started with something I could join in with, ten minutes later, when my job was done, he was not having any of it.
He wanted me to sit with him the whole time and would follow me round like a little lost puppy if I tried to leave his sight.
Now I know in the grand scheme of things giving the bathroom a clean at that moment was the least important thing in the world.
But this stupid chore – which I hate, by the way – seemed to be my Goliath.
Only the night before my husband had told me what a brilliant mum he thinks I am to our children, and here I am getting upset over the stupid housework.
Suddenly the fact I have not managed to get my hair cut since I had my daughter was depressing, and the post-pregnancy annoyance of shedding stupid amounts of hair everywhere was upsetting.
I felt I looked awful in all of my clothes which showed off my huge baby belly (which I know I don’t really have).
And anyway most of our clothes are piling up in the ironing basket because I have not found the time to get stuck in, except in the evenings when I’m flopping out.
Oh, and I’m tired because the light mornings remain an early wake-up call for my son despite all efforts to keep his room dark and make him tired for the night. Grrr.
Needless to say a two-minute cry and a pep talk to pull myself together seemed to have done the trick.
I just have to remember to be a super mum – and not supermum.
Why, oh why, does he keep questioning?
What’s the most irritating word in the English language?
For me it is ‘why’?
Instead of accepting whatever I tell him (ish) my little man has decided to join the ‘why’ club and answer pretty much everything I say to him with that annoying word.
Why, oh why, won’t my answer of ‘because it does’ no longer work?