A Mothers Wish-List – The Short Version

Until I was 30 I had absolutely zero intentions of starting a family.

I was happy as Larry, trotting around with my head firmly inserted into my own rectum, enjoying a tidy house, regular nights out and going on far-flung holidays, during which I got to actually lay by the pool, still like broccoli – sipping cocktails and reading a book without having to look around every half page, like a wild eyed mentalist trying to locate my errant children.

Something clicked and one day and the husband and I decided that we could probably cope so why not – it’d give us something to talk about at least.

All of our friends who were already parents looked relatively happy, if they could manage, why couldn’t we? What we didn’t know is that it’s all a big practical joke. A cute, entertaining one – but also a torturous, never ending test of sanity.


Fast forward five years – we have two daughters and if we’re not already going bald from stress I can tell you now that we will when they’re teenagers!

The girls are two and four and I can’t have a poo in peace, let alone read a book – they can literally ignore me completely for an hour at a time – until I start speaking to someone on the phone – then all of a sudden they want me to explain the meaning of life or pretend to be Moana – not great if it’s a work call.

My house is covered in crayon art work, I’m perpetually skint and my general appearance is poor overall – I’ve put on three stone, my skin has taken on a death-like pallor thanks to the lack of sleep and my hair is so thin I can sometimes see the light bouncing off my scalp – I might be pleased with Hair transplant results, although I’d be too scared to go through with it and the kids would still want sodding high shoulders during recovery so I’d probably feel like I was being scalped daily.

I’ve actually considered purchasing a wig – a less painful option, but would the kids pull it off in public?

Perhaps I just need to work on building a hat collection?

So I need a load of hats, a gastric band and some new-fangled, dog-placenta face cream to make me feel younger, a life-time supply of Gin and a barrel full of cash – easy peasy!

*This is a collaborative post*

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