This afternoon I sobbed into the washing up.
Not over blogging, lists, awards or anything online before anyone asked. I was dripping into the bowl of plates as I felt like a failure – we are likely to run out of milk before morning.
Yes, I was crying over unspilt milk.
Pathetic, eh?
No, not really. My house is a tip. The bedroom changeover I’d planned for before the big day didn’t happen because the big day happened 10 days early. The tidy up I need to do so that we can actually all move around the living room still hasn’t happened. And I wanted to go out today for a walk with tigerboy in the lovely snuggly stretchy wrap that arrived for review, but I had a sponsored blogpost to publish and I prioritised that, forgetting that dp was going out, and at that point I would be unable to.
So I didn’t get my walk to buy milk. Not that I’m fit to walk out to buy milk after yesterday – the back of my right thigh keeps going into cramp, I think from carrying the car seat various places. And tomorrow we’re out for lunch, so I’m going to struggle to fit in getting out to buy milk before that too. And my mother is coming on Sunday and I don’t have a present for her.
So, to all those ppl thinking I’m doing fine – I’m doing pretty much how you’d expect 11 days after having a baby. I have too much to do, I feel like I’m failing at most of it, and I’m a hormonal mess.
Hohum.




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