Tired.
That is really how I answer most people who ask me how I am.
“Hey, how the heck are ya?” they stand waiting, as if expecting me to go into some level of detail. Instead, I smile and say ” I’m tired”.
I am so bloody tired.
You would be forgiven for thinking with the two older boys in school, that I may get a nap in the mornings or even early afternoon. Nope. Nope. Nope. I don’t.
The baby goes to bed at 10.30am he wakes at 12 and goes back down at 2.30 until 3.30 then he’s up until 8/9pm, which is his bedtime. Fantastic, I hear you , it is.
But…
While my darling baby is sleeping, I have a bedroom to clean, not just -make the bed pick up clothes-put toys away kind of clean room, oh no. I need my gloves, bleach, scrubbing brush and my ever reliable ‘febreez’ . I must scrub whatever surprises Ethan has left in his bedroom. This can take an hour, depending on the level of squashed in poo Ethan has managed today. Then there’s Ethans adapted bathroom which demands the same level of attention.
With that done, I’ve bed sheets to rinse and steep then finally put into the washing machine. By this time baby D is awake. Thats my ‘break’ time.
He’s back in bed, I’ve mini mens clothes to fold and put away- I do not iron. Ever. I sweep the floors, I’m unsure why; I know by 4pm they will be destroyed again, how in ever I do it twice daily. I pick up all the disregarded toys in the playroom and go on the hunt to find where that smell is coming from— there is always a smell.
Baby D is back up, I attend to him while cooking a dinner. My two bigger boys come bursting through the door at 3pm. Now I am a referee for the rest of the day.
By 6pm I can feel the tiredness creeping. I begin to pray D comes home early. I prepare tea. Then lunches for the following day. Then tidy the kitchen while the boys take it in turns to come out nagging me for something or other. I give in. I leave the dishes and go into the now messy playroom and sit with them, dancing, singing, colouring, wrestling whatever they happen to want me to play. These are the times I think it would be great to have a little girl, I dismiss it quickly when they all come over and kiss me all at once— I love my three little messy dirty boys!
8pm now and I’ve Ethan into his nice tidy smell-free room. He sleeps by 8.15, I thank God daily for this. Back downstairs to finish those sticky dishes while D plays with J and baby D. He normally has a cup of tea waiting for me, I’m so thankful for that.
By 9pm all the boys are in bed and I get to write- my favourite thing to do apart from taking photographs. Both D and I will watch our programmes together then head to bed by 11pm. I am asleep by 11.45, most nights.
So when I am asked “How are you feeling?” and I answer “Tired”— It is because I am absofuckinglutely tired.