THE ULTIMATE SCRAG


Max is 11 weeks old today. 
He can roll from his tummy to his back. 
He is a chatterbox.
He licks his lips when he sees food.
He farts louder than Drew. 
nd he is so bloody gorgeous!!

Where does the time go?

Max has gone from sleeping 10 hours through the night, to waking up every 1-2 hours, so I am feeling as if I have a brand new baby all over again. Most nights I sleep on the couch just so he doesn't wake anyone else up. He is like a fart in a bottle.

Then there's me who is slowly turning into the ultimate housewife. Ugh, I hate the term housewife but it's the word I'd use to describe myself lately. The complete lack of sleep has led to me dropping the ball in the last week or so. 

Yesterday, I let Madi eat shapes for lunch. I ate two ice cream cups and had a 1 minute shower just so I could get back into the same ripped tracksuit pants and oversized singlet that I was previously wearing. I also have 2 rooms in the house full of clothes that need to be sorted and put away before a house inspection tomorrow. No fucks given.

Do you know how badly I would give to go to the gym for just an hour? I want to lift some heavy shit and put it back down on the ground. I miss the atmosphere or being around people as passionate about their health as I am. BUT, I don't want to leave the kids with a stranger at the gym and by the time Drew gets home from work, we've had dinner and put the kids to bed, I am rooted beyond belief and just want to go to bed. 

I find myself staring at nothing sometimes just trying to brainstorm what I can do to feel like I'm doing something for myself. I'm constantly taking care of the kids and completely forgetting about myself. That's being a mum I guess, but it would be nice to feel like I'm doing something other than being a housewife. Ugh, I hate that word. Madi sees me cleaning so much that she goes to daycare and helps them sweep and wipe down the tables. On the upside, she has taught herself to fully unload the dishwasher. Winning.

I don't cry anymore when I'm overwhelmed. Instead when Max is screaming at the top of his lungs and not taking his bottle, I'll sit with him on my lap, pat his back and stare out  the window while swearing prefusely in my mind. Kind of zombie like I guess you could say. If I was to say it out loud I would sound like that crazy meth addicted mother of 4 kids who all have different surnames who goes to Centrelink on a Friday morning to ask why she hasn't received her dole money after forgetting to report on time.

So no, I am not one of those picture perfect women who can keep their shit together at all times, I drop the ball sometimes. I have the best of intentions but exhaustion and oh what's that thing called... LIFE gets in the way. So if I have to wear the same shit for 4 days in a row and the oil in my hair could cook a meal, so be it. I may not necessarily like being this run down housewife but only I can change that! 

Only once I have a sufficient amount of sleep and a decent gym session.
Then I'll start. 

Here's to looking like a complete scrag! Woooo!