This really
bleeping galls me for some reason. She makes out she works so hard and it’s so exhausting and everyone around her has to literally force her to rest. She has no...
bleeping...idea what a hard days work looks like. She has no idea what it is like to have to get up sometimes before 6am, throw a quick cup of tea down your throat, quick jump in the shower, throw clothes on and a dash of lipstick and mascara if time, then run round the house waking children, then going back in 10 mins later to physically drag them out of their bed, bits of uniform flying all over the place, kid 1 has lost their shoes and kid 2 didn’t tell you about the papier mache volcano project they got two weeks ago that has to be in today! She has no idea what it is like having to be rushed out of the house by 8 to drop kids at whoever or whatever school provision can them before the start of school, and the inevitable dread of getting caught in the work and school traffic. She has no idea what is like to then sit in an office all day, counting down the hours, knowing you are being paid the bare minimum and your wages are spend before you can even think about what you would like to buy. She has no idea what it is like to work a 12.5hr shift in a hospital, where you don’t have a minute to yourself. Every moment of the day is putting other people before yourself and making sure they are ok, happy, healthy and well supported. Not being able to see until you’re bladder literally feels like it will explode. Not being able to eat until you are at the point of feeling like you will faint. Finishing your day in the office, or shift in the hospital and getting home and loving being back with your kids but equally controlling your snappiness because of how tired you are. But it’s still not time to rest. There is homework to be done, dinner to be cooked, laundry to be done, cleaning to be done (including the kitchen tap wank and cloths to be put to bed
), baths run, bedtime stories to be read and little ones to be kissed and put to bed. Then if you’re lucky and not too tired you might fancy a little glass of wine and a catch up of Corrie or a scroll through social media. However, if you’re anything like me, you’ll probably drift off in front of the TV. Then it’s finally time to haul yourself up the Apple and pears to bedlam, but not before, tidying away the last bits, locking up & lining up the school bags and packed lunch boxes for the morning. You then drop into bed, knackered, another quick look on Instagram and you see Mrs Hinch moaning about how exhausting it is choosing whether to have grey or dark grey on her book cover, grey marl or dove grey for her tracksuit, and biskittt or eucalyptus in the nursery. Cry me a
bleeping river. She has NO BLOODY clue and never will.
ETA - This sort of routine covers everyone. Pregnant or not. But you know what, most pregnant women, will continue with this routine right up until the day they give birth and for lots, most of this kind of routine continues even then. Most don’t have a stay at home hubby to wait on them every second of the day, or the ability and privilege to swan off round the country to stay in cute cottages for the first 6 weeks. What about women who have NO ONE! Sorry but I’m actually raging. She is so
bleeping BLIND.