8 signs you’re well and truly a mum

Having a little one changes your life in so many ways. The overwhelming love thing is obviously great. Other things are not so great. And some are sobering or just weird. Here are a few I’ve discovered.

Your dressing gown pockets are full of dry baby wipes, hair clips, broken crayons and dry bits of food picked up off the floor or out of random places. You intend to go straight to the bin but you never quite get there…

The mere thought of a day in the house with a rampaging toddler ransacking the place and the nerve- inducing cry of a baby means you find any excuse to bundle them in the double buggy and leave the house. The six litres of milk in the fridge surely won’t see you through until tomorrow and that card for your friend’s birthday in six months time MUST be bought today.

Every minute of sleep is sacrosanct. You know exactly how much you’ve had compared with every night that week and it’s definitely less than your partner’s had despite their claim that they’ve not slept. If there was one thing for parents to bicker about it’s this!

You know that the only time you’ve looked in the mirror all day was when you got up. Bits in your teeth, newly emerged spots and unkempt hair… everybody’s aware of it apart from you.

The washing machine is the soundtrack to your life. The house sounds errily quiet when it’s not on- which is almost never.

Your hands look like builders’ hands and that’s probably doing them a disservice! Constant washing from nappy changes and bottle washing (even wearing Marigolds) has left them in a state.

Your idea of bliss has downgraded somewhat from cocktails on the beach in Mauritius to a drive through Costa Coffe while the children sleep in the back of the car. If you were to really push the boat out it would be a night away on a hotel on your own with wine, a book and Netflix. Luxury would be nice but a Travelodge would do.

Getting a burp up from the baby becomes a fixation. Was that a burp or a grunt? Does a silent little one count or do you push for the foghorn? Do you give it five minutes or go at it until you get repetitive strain injury? When it comes, oh, the joy. Fist pump moment! If it doesn’t come you’re on edge knowing that full on baby wind squirming and screaming is on the way.

Right, time to put the washing machine back on as I swig a cold coffee and the toddler casually scatters all her toys and books over the floor… Deep breaths and crack on!

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