checking in to the whole mum thing

No one ever told me that on becoming a mum, I would wake up and be this close to tears because my daughter slept in past ten in the morning, TEN IN THE MORNING. And I really needed that, today especially. I spent four hours deep cleaning the bathroom and scrubbing grout with a bleached toothbrush because I made the mistake of late night watching Obsessive Compulsive Cleaners. Nevermind that you’re exhausted, jade, from making your first budding attempts at exercise, you absolutely must move the living room. The piano needs to go there. It has to, there is no other thing that can happen at exactly seven minutes past one in the morning.
Granted, i’ve woken with legs that wobble each step I take. Like a sexy bambi.(Oh god ew.) With zombie eyes. But still, my bums better than last week. A bit.
And nobody ever told me that my little, sleepy bundle of screaming thing, would grow into not a baby. With the upright stance follows the ability to wriggle her entire body in a sassy finger shake that perfectly encompasses “fuck you mum Imma do what I want.” And I can’t help but laugh.
As of this week, she’s broken my phone four times. Coated the couch in bean juice and thrown up on my head (only) once, whilst at the park. I’ve cleaned impossible amounts of poop, but she laughs when i tell her I love her and cuddles when I least expect it.
And when she brings me books with the demand that i read them, but takes them from me to “read” back, everything i worried about is thrown over my shoulder.

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