I am not Superwoman

Well, its official, my mind is a mess, my body is a mess, my house is a mess and my parenting style is a mess.  I have been working long hours for a hellish project and it has taken its toll on every part of me. This week I’ve cried in the office over a very small thing, I’ve cried at home over big and small things. I’ve had a very poorly tummy (I will say no more on that right now), I’ve stared at my massive washing up pile every evening for the past four days but have not yet washed it up and I’m being a shit mum as all I want to do is come home and veg on the sofa when Charlotte wants me to play and we have eaten crap way too often recently (thank goodness nursery gives her real food).  

 I am apparently part time and have the salary that goes with it, yet I have also worked more than full time hours over the past few weeks and have been logging on at home in the evenings just to get stuff done.  This is not a recipe for a happy, well-balanced life is it?

 So I’m thinking about going to the doctors to be signed off for a bit after long and teary discussions with lots of my friends because I’m not sure I can do it anymore. But something is stopping me and I can’t quite figure out what.  Pride, maybe. Stubbornness, maybe.  Conscientiousness, maybe. Worried about the stigma, maybe.  But I think it’s mainly down to the fact that, even though I know it’s utter bullshit, somewhere inside of me still seems to think I should be fucking Superwoman!!  This fictional character who is able to deal with all areas of life effectively, all the time.  Whose house is spotless. Whose children don’t have tantrums and do eat broccoli. Whose nails are perfectly manicured at all times and who can still hold down a full time job and keep up with the high stresses in her job.  Single mum or not Superwoman has her shit together

superwoman Well being Superwoman and ‘having it all’ seems like a quick way into an early grave, so, as one of my friends said, I need to choose my priorities.  Surprisingly work comes nowhere near the top of this list so I need to make sure it’s not at the top of my stress list either. 

 I feel a revelation coming on. #iamnotsuperwoman

 

 

The never ending list.

Having browsed through my Facebook page today I have a feeling I’m not alone in the toddler vs housework battle but sometimes I feel like I just don’t have the capacity to keep up with it all!

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My house is a mess. Not in the ‘excuse the mess’ way that some people say when a cushion is placed slightly wrong on the sofa, but in the ‘a laundry bomb has gone off and then a machine gun loaded with toys and other crap was sprayed around the house just to finish the job’ type way. One of the reasons I split with my husband was because he didn’t want to socialise with any of our friends. Now, however, I have ample opportunity to socialise in my own home but I daren’t invite anyone over because I’m ashamed at the state of my house! Not particularly great for the love life either!

It also seems like no matter how much tidying and cleaning I do, I am only able to have two tidy rooms at any one time! I’m sure I’m not just transporting the mess from one room to another but it must be a law in physics somewhere: two tidy rooms must equal two messy rooms etc etc.

I have actually found myself fantasising about, one day, just moving house and leaving it all behind but would I be better in any other house, who knows!!?? You would never guess, but deep down I’m actually a bit of a perfectionist so unfortunately I just spend my whole life frustrated at myself and the house. There’s a quote that says ‘Tidy house, tidy mind’. Heaven knows why my mind looks like then…although I could hazard a guess!