Love of My Life...really?

FreddieB Status


DAY:  33
Hrs of Sleep:  7 1/2 (for me, Love of My Life on the night shift)
Feeds:      6 per 24 hours
Nappies:  Unknown
Weight:   Unknown


Do all Mums think they've made a terrible mistake?  Think that maybe, the 'Love of Their Life' isn't actually in fact the 'Love of Their Life'?  Or is it just me....?  Four weeks into FreddidB being born and I think I'd rather be sharing a house with Adolf Fucking Hitler! 


Seriously.  I remember the day so clearly...I'd just arrived at my London desk from a drunken weekend in Nottingham.  I frantically typed out the words to all my friends 'OMG!  I've met the man I'm going to marry and have three children with.  You HAVE to get me his number'.  I'm wishing my closet friend hadn't bothered calling all the builders merchants with a Nottinghamshire postcode, asking if my future husband worked there. How could she succeed at such a 'needle in a haystack' task?  


Apparently being on maternity leave isn't all about bonding with your child/children.  It's about 1950's 'How To Be A Good Wife'.  You know the things - cooking, cleaning, darning socks and anything else that 'Love of My Life' feels is beneath him.  But, in this world of equality he also wants me to work...and not part time and some little corner shop.  A proper job with responsibilities.  

So today, apparently I have 'sat on my arse' all day!  Really?  Is this what I've really done?  The pots cleaned themselves did they?  Your children, aged one and four weeks dressed themselves?  The washing washed itself and then hung itself on the line?  The bed made itself too?  Oh, and I suppose your one year old cooked her own lunch and dinner and also sorted out Freddie's feeds?  What a fucking Bewitched household we live in!


And, whilst I'm typing this?  Where the fuck are you?  And, where were you last night?  And where will you be all day Saturday?  Some poxy football ground, cheering on some non-premier team who will undoubtedly lose!  And you have the nerve, the audacity to tell me that I 'palm the children off' because I left first born with her Grandma for five hours yesterday.  


That 'needle in a haystack' friend, do me a favour, next time I tell you to GET ME HIS NUMBER, tell me to GET A FUCKING LIFE!