“I’m done trying with you!”

“I’m done trying with you!”

Lovely friend,

While it was never my intention to isolate you let’s talk about this. You have children in high school, so this is probably locked away in a part of your brain that’s closed off to protect your sanity these days — I get it.

My day started at 1.30am today, to walking into a bedroom with the aroma of something dead. By the time I had changed the little guys nappy, he coughed violently and did it again. Elbow deep in the rich yellow velvet of diarrhoea I fought valiantly and changed the nappy once more. Then herded the dirty pile onto the changing mat so I could deal with it in the morning as there wasn’t a chance I was going downstairs into the cold.

By that point, BB was awake enough to need an hour of soothing and nursing in various positions to get him back into his cot, of which it took three attempts to get him to stay in bed sleeping once I’d got him tucked in.

My morning was punctuated with getting up to resettle the baby every half an hour to an hour, before he finally got some good sleep. Then I saw a vision of my partner get up for work, although I can’t imagine he was sad to leave the messy haired poo smeared woman next to him who claimed to be the once silk nighty wearing memory of his girlfriend.

Then it was time to get out of bed — coffee and bottle stat, this Mum and Baby duo need our morning fix. The TV hammers Badanamu into my head as we cuddle together and recover from our poonami experience last night. I can check my social media now, flicking through my notifications and I see a message from you, lovely friend.

Hi it’s been ages, how are you doing?! Let’s meet for coffee!

You don’t really want to know how I’m doing, right? I mean, my Mum blogging clique can totally relate to my diarrhoea escapades, but.. I don’t know if messaging you the same would be what you expect.

Oh — hold on, my son is attempting to poke his finger into a plug socket. Now he’s half way upstairs, sorry — I’ll get right back to you I swear — oh God I need to rinse that sleepsuit that’s under the cot.. The rabbit needs cleaning too.. Dinner! The freezer is empty apart from a packet of mixed veg, what on Earth do I make for dinner?!

Meanwhile, your message sits there. Sometimes for an hour, but more than likely it’ll never get replied to as I either (a) think a reply in my head will somehow get to you, or (b) it sits there for long enough to become a bit awkward to reply to. My Mum friends that I know frequently get messages in the darkest of hours because we all agreed to have the ‘night time’ setting in our phone active so anyone up breastfeeding could message. But my friends who work and have lives? If I messaged them and woke them up, what then? I’d feel terrible and they’d feel worse, I bet.

“Since you’ve had that baby, you don’t reply to messages and you’re never in, I’m done trying with you!”

Oh.. Okay. Well maybe that’s for the best, I doubt my baby will get the memo that Mum needs ‘life admin’ time when she can get back to people within a timeframe. I’m a new Mum, I’ve never done this before and I’m still learning to try keep my sticks upright while spinning plates on top.

I go out because I need to escape the four walls. Usually to a playgroup, sometimes just for a walk to the local park. I was once in for a week while the weather was too hot to take BB out safely, and I got passive aggressive comments about the baby not going out enough. Now I get the same about not being in enough for people to just drop in on a whim.

I thought you’d understand.



Leave a Reply