I absolutely hated the job I was doing and going back to work floored me. Not necessarily because I desperately wanted to be with my baby. Hell, I’m not Ma Walton! The job completely drained me and I was, quite frankly, shit at it. By the end of my first week back in work, I was applying for jobs internally. Within 6 weeks, I was starting a new, much less soul destroying job, which happily included more money. By the end of 2015, I had passed my driving test (Christ knows how. Google Maureen from Driving School and you will get the idea), lost two stone, changed jobs, sold the house and was pregnant again (and well on my way to piling that two stone back on and a bit more, besides. I don’t believe in doing things by half). Last year was pretty busy. This year has been a bit quieter, arrival of baby number 2 aside, but now I’ve adjusted to life as a mum of two (hahahaha! who the f@^k am I kidding?!), once again I am reviewing the last 33 years and 8 months and realising it’s high time I Got My Shit Together™. You know, like a proper adult.
Life is about balance and I am well aware that you can’t “have it all.” Something always has to give. I do find it stressful trying to be a good mum, trying to maintain a house, trying to lose weight, trying to do something I love, trying to earn money and trying not to neglect my marriage. Maybe I shouldn’t try to be super woman. Maybe I should accept being flabby fishwife (and I do fishwife chic exceptionally, effortlessly well). Maybe I should accept doing a job that doesn’t set my world on fire. Maybe I should accept that my house is an absolute shit tip and that I hate having guests because I am ashamed that I can’t keep a show home with two wildlings, ripping the place up. Maybe I should accept that play doh and the ‘Hunks of Cbeebies’ (my Mastermind specialist subject) are my main interests. But what is life without goals? Without an aim to keep you going? Don’t we just stop and stagnate?
Like the selfish bastard I am, I am doing my Dick (head) Whittington bit and skipping off to Dat Der London to see what I can see. Perhaps the streets are paved with gold and one day, I’ll be able to say to the boys, “I chased my dreams. It worked. You go out and chase yours and be happy with who you are because you are amazing”. And they are amazing and they are my world. Even if they drive me to cake and the need for ‘me time.’ I just hope they will want me to come home from London. Besides, it’s only for one day.