I'm tired. I am really, REALLY tired.


Remember back in the days of going to school, when someone asked how you were and you told them you were tired? Yeah, I know, HILARIOUS! There are a lot of things people will tell you about becoming a parent that you don't really take seriously and then there are things that nobody will tell you.



You are going to be tired. All. The. Time. It is a whole other level of tiredness. You don't come to know this new level of tiredness until you have children. 4 hours becomes a great nights sleep and right around 4pm every day it hits you like a tidal wave. If you sit down at this point, for any length of time, you will not be able to keep your eyes open.


When you have your first, you are so excited for them to start saying 'mommy' and it is so cute when they do. I'll let you in on something though, It's not cute forever. When they hit about 3 years old, it's as though they only say mommy when they are complaining. So 'mommy' becomes 'Mooooommmmmmmmyyyyyy-uh.' Now, I don't know if every child adds the 'uh' to the end of their words when they are complaining but mine do and it's great, really, really, really... great. Better yet, this level of moaning usually starts in my house at about 4pm, right around the time the tidal wave of exhaustion hits. Luckily though, mom exhaustion and whining go hand in hand... Don't they?



You're not only a mom. You are a tissue. I am a walking tissue. Picture this; child falls, child cries, child's nose becomes a tap, you hug child and kiss them better, child grabs whatever part of you is most convenient, be it your leg, your hair or your sleeve and uses it to wipe their nose and mouth. 'Is that a snail trail on your arm?' Nope. It's snot. Everything is snot. Snot. Snot. Snot. Snot.


Before having children the thought of being pooed on was a thing of nightmares. The thought of getting another humans poo on your leg would be the end of the world, never mind having someone actually poo on you. When Imogen, my second, was a baby she had cows milk protein allergy and it wasn't diagnosed until she was 5 months old. This meant that she literally couldn't poo without help. So every few days I had to do something I never thought I would do, give her a suppository.



One Saturday afternoon, my partner, Paul was out, I was at home with her and Noah who was 2.5 at the time and it was the dreaded poo day. Noah was standing beside me telling me about what he was building with Duplo. I was putting Imogen's nappy back over her, Noah pushed the Duplo bricks into my face and knocked my glasses off. I let go of her nappy to catch my glasses and in that instant she projectile pooed. All. Over. Me.


I yelped, Noah screamed. It was in my hair, down my top, on my jeans and in the boots I was wearing. It was everywhere and it was horrendous. I was kind of stunned for a minute and stayed like a statue trying to grasp what had just happened. Noah was standing beside me gagging,


'Mummy!' *gag* 'Imogen's poo is on you!'  *gag*.

'Thanks Noah, I had noticed'

'It's in your boot Mummy' *gag*

'Yes Noah, I know..'



In a panic, I then started trying to mop it up with wipes, I wiped my hair, my chest, the floor and stupidly I hadn't yet re-covered volcano arse in my state of shock and she erupted AGAIN. Sounds horrific right? It was. She plastered the other side of me in poo. This was like 5 days worth of poo.



I put a clean nappy on the poo-cano, who was now happy, kicking and flapping her arms, probably really chuffed with her aim. Noah at this stage was standing in the opposite corner of the room, coughing and gagging with tears in his eyes. I wiped off what I could, called Paul and told him he needed to come home straight away. He came in the door to me walking down the hall like a robot and he immediately laughed. I didn't. I just looked at him and went straight to the shower stayed there for as long as I could.



So there it is, a little glimpse into parenthood, in all its poopy, snotty glory. To those reading who are having a poopy, snotty day, know that you're not alone. Believe it or not, you will eventually look back on these days fondly. Parenthood is the happiest, smelliest thing you will ever do.

Meet Emily. She is 24 years old, with 3 little humans who call her 'Mummy'. Fumbling her way through parenthood in the happiest way.

  • Total Article Views:23k
  • Average View Time:1m 29s