Just over 2 weeks ago now, I published a post committing to 2 alcohol free weeks, but I’m ashamed to admit that I lasted little more than 2 days. Continue reading “Total Failure”
Even as I write this post, I’m seriously doubting whether to publish it, because doing so is making a commitment to temporarily have a break from alcohol, which I’m not convinced I can stick to.
I’m not really a big drinker as such; my days of staying out until the early hours and waking up at lunch time with a stinking hangover are long gone, thank goodness, but I am a frequent drinker, albeit in small amounts. That frequency seems to have increased recently, to the point that I realised 2 weeks had gone by and I’d had something pretty much every night. That might have just been a glass of wine, or a couple of G&Ts; never enough for me to feel drunk or wake up feeling rough, but I could tell that it was still taking a toll on me.
I felt tired, slow, bloated, and was getting nasty headaches, all of which improved with sticking to good old Tea for an evening, instead of hitting the G&T.
I often look forward to nothing more than getting home from a busy day at work, and relaxing with a nice glass of red, but drinking so frequently was even starting to take the enjoyment out of it, and the last thing I want is for it to become habit. I want to be able to really enjoy a glass of good wine, when I truly deserve it after a hard day.
That’s why, by writing this post, I am committing to 2 alcohol free weeks. I know it’s not a long time, but even before I start I know I’ll feel better for it, and I’m pretty sure I’ll even see an improvement on my waistline, as I dread to think the amount of calories my daily glass or two of wine have added up to.
I promise to be honest about whether I stick to this, but, as I write this with a glass of orange juice by my side, the challenge begins…
When you’re about to become a new mum, you expect there to be a huge learning curve. Everything is new, and everything is a challenge. However, I’ve acquired a few unexpected skills over the last year. None of this screams ‘supermum’, but I’m finding my own little ways of appearing capable of looking after a small person and generally holding everything together, despite the exhaustion and lack of any real skills in the parenting area!
I am now proficient in:
- Successfully getting a nappy on and dressing a moving target
- Singing ‘row your boat’ on repeat, whilst still keeping up with what’s going on in Orange is the New Black, or whatever TV show I happen to be watching at the time (thank you, subtitles)
- Making a cup of tea using only one hand
- Drying my hair, getting dressed and putting on make-up in approximately 5 minutes flat, and still looking somewhat presentable
- Managing a lot of my household cleaning with nothing other than a packet of baby wipes
What skills have you unexpectedly acquired?
I’m a year into motherhood, and I’m not afraid to admit that I’m finding it tough. When our little one arrived, I expected the first few weeks and months to be challenging, but I’d sort of hoped that I’d have it all figured out by now. Truth is, as soon as we get over one challenge, another arises, and I’ve realised that I’ll probably never have it figured out. I don’t know if any parent ever does. Continue reading “Motherhood – 1 year in: Keeping Positive”
Today I took the little one for her first visit to the library. Actually, it was more for my benefit than hers as I wanted to use the computers to print something out. I could have done it at work I suppose, but there’s always that worry that the one time you jam the printer will be when you’re printing that non-work document.
I’m ashamed to say that this was my first visit to the library in what must be years. Every time I heard of another library closure I feel incredibly sad, yet I, like most of us, just don’t make enough use of them anymore. Continue reading “A trip to the library”
Since when did taking a day off sick become an opportunity to get shit done? After spending most of the Easter weekend coughing uncontrollably and generally feeling a bit rubbish, I came home from work on Tuesday feeling exhausted, achy, and pretty damn ill. I can’t tell you how much I loved my partner, when, seeing I was struggling asked me to wash bottles for the little one then said I should take myself off to bed at 7pm. Feeling no better (worse), when I woke the next morning, I called in sick and stayed in bed until lunch time.
A day at home with my partner around is a rare thing in our house, so despite feeling rotten, my mind turned to all the odd jobs that we never get round to, because they require someone to watch the little on so they can get done. So, wrapped in my favourite blanket and setting up camp on the sofa, I sent my other half off to the tip to get rid of the pile of old flooring that has been sitting in out front garden for the last week or so after we (finally, after a year of winging about the state of it and it driving me nuts) got our living room floor replaced. Our floor may be lovely now, but the piles of rubbish outside our front door was dragging down the nice appearance of our street. That’s not to mention the old sofa and armchair hiding down the alley waiting for a council collection.
While my partner took the little on out to run some errands, I then used the peace and quiet to do a bit of research and purchase a new toilet (exciting stuff) ready for some work we’re having done in the bathroom next month, get a bit of tidying done, and write this blog post. Later that evening, feeling much better, I set to work painting our living room doors.
I’m sure there was a time when being sick meant staying in bed drinking cups of tea and feeling sorry myself, but these days it’s chance to do all of the stuff that I just can’t get round to/can’t be bothered to do when I’m fit and well. This ultimately also results in an overwhelming feeling of guilt that if I can get this done I should in fact be at work, but, I knew when I got up and attempted to shower that it just wasn’t worth trying to go in. I hate calling in sick, and generally have to be feeling at death’s door in order to do so.
I’ve only had one day of annual leave so far this year, and if this week has taught me anything, it’s that it’s worth booking the odd day off regularly, if nothing else just to do the odd bit of housework and generally get my shit together.
That’s right. I’m one of those lazy mothers who would rather open a jar of ready-made food than cook a wholesome meal for my daughter. That’s what I was convinced other people thought while I was stacking the ’12 for £6′ jars into my ASDA basket, before scurrying off to the checkout. Continue reading “I feed my baby out of jars, and I am not ashamed.”