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I’m going to start this post by saying I love my kids dearly. I love them so damn hard it hurts my heart at times. But this mum is exhausted.

I never take my children for granted. It was a fight to have them (which is a story for another time) and there isn’t a day goes by where I don’t count my lucky stars that it all worked out.

But, you know what? I need a day off.

I don’t want to mum today.

I think feeling like this boils down to one thing: I’m tired.

The Daily Grind

This is how my day goes. I’m not putting this here for comparison, or to try and invoke some crazed competition to the bottom (I won’t have that here – we’re all in this together, remember?). I just want to be open with you.

Morning:

Get up 10 minutes after my husband (which, means I lose lie-in privileges at the weekend apparently, skip shower so said husband can have all the hot water he wants, feed the dog, take dog outside for a pee (he has to be monitored, don’t ask), make lunch for the kids, drag kids out of bed, make breakfasts they probably won’t eat, drink my now-cold tea, have a cold shower, get dressed, encourage the kids to get ready, tidy up so the dog doesn’t eat things that can potentially impact his bowels, load the car for a day of cleaning people’s houses, head off to school.

Thats the first hour.

I then spend the next 6 hours cleaning houses for perfectly nice people. It’s a job I actually quite enjoy, but boy is it tiring for minimum wage.

Then I pop home to check on the dog before I collect the kids.

Once I have seen to their needs. Fought off their arguments, walked the dog, cleaned food out of their schoolbags, done a load of laundry, and MAYBE made myself a snack, I start to write.

(I’m an author btw – though my penname will remain a secret).

I continue to work until dinner and then I clean my own house until bed.

A pretty ordinary day, right?

I think so.

The Mental Load is Real

But what we fail to realise is that in the hundreds of actions we take every day, comes with a million decisions to make and things to remember: is it library day at school today? Are swimming kits clean? Must remember to pick up toothpaste. What if Talula is mean to girl-child today (a made up name, but one I quite like!). It’s a mundane list, but it’s so mundane, holding it in my brain is hard work.

We have to be ‘on’ all day every day, we are responsible for the house, the kids, for pets, for spouses, for jobs, oh, and ourselves.

We’re tired! It gets to nine in the evening and that’s when I realise, I haven’t sat down yet. All I want to do is sit and scroll on my phone and let’s face it, that search for dopamine isn’t exactly relaxing let alone the mum-guilt we suffer with dare we ask for a few minutes to ourselves.

Then there’s the next problem: social media. The land of perfection. Where people are heavily filtered to hide the bags under our eyes. Where smiles are plastered on our faces to disguise the fact we’re at breaking point. The photos of activities that required a lot of planning and far too much encouragement for a full two hours of complaining and whinging.

It’s all fake, girl! Remember, for every social media post presenting perfection, is a thousand hellish moments to get there.

So, you know what? I need a day off. A day off from work. A day off from cleaning my house. A day off from my children. A day off from life.

Just one day. Just one day amongst thousands more.

The Impossible Dream

But even if I was whisked away to a beach in the middle of nowhere with nothing but a book in one hand and a cocktail in the other, I’d still be one thing: I’d still be a mother.

The little horrors will still be in my mind. I’d still be worrying about them. Rehearsing the to do lists that whoever is caring for them need to be acting out. My heart will still be full of them.

Because it’s one thing to say you need a break, but doing it? That’s a whole other thing.

Yes, I need a day off. Is it even possible?

Absolutely not.

I’ll stick to hiding in the pantry with a packet of forbidden sweets. I’ll have the occasional secret cry when things get too much. I’ll continue to be the best damn mother I can be.

And I wouldn’t change that for the world.

The Reality Check

It isn’t all bad. I know that. This is just a whinge. Things I need to get off my chest. But hey, that’s what this blog is for. A release. A catharsis. And you’re welcome to use this space to get it all out too.

Let’s normalise that it’s okay to not be okay. Just sometimes. It’s okay to admit that you’re not perfect, because no one is. Perfection is a myth. We’re imperfectly wonderful, each and every one of us.

Because every day we’re battling on. The house is standing, the kids are thriving, we have love in our life.

And that’s worth celebrating. Is it not?

Your Turn

So, here’s my question to you: if you could have a day off. A real one where nothing matters except what’s in front of you right now. What would you do? Where would you go?

Let me know in the comments below.