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March 23, 2017

Energy. It’s all around us. All consuming. Einstein was undoubtedly a genius creating an equation to define it. Shall I tell what Einstein definitely wasn’t? A parent of twins. I’d go so far in fact to state that I doubt Einstein would have been able to have created his infamous formula if he’d been kept up all night by a teething baby. Energy is all around but what it definitely isn’t is something I have much of lately.


When I look back to PT (pre twins) I literally can’t believe how little I actually did and how much I thought I was doing. I specifically remember my mum friends telling me how tired they were because their child had been awake all night with the new installment of cold/cough/teething/crying *delete as appropriate* and I’d tell them how tired I was from my life of work (and what I now appreciate is called freedom). They would tell me they were exhausted. I’d tell them I was and cue the dance of “who is the more knackered.” I’d gracefully let them win all the while thinking it was undoubtedly in fact me,  and then return to Mr M to explain, in depth why I should be wearing the night cap crown.


Well, just like poor La La Land at the Oscars that award never belonged to me. Knackered mums win. I hold my hands up and apologise because instead of moaning I should have been smug in the knowledge that I could sleep anywhere. At any time. Whenever I chose (within reason of course. The M4 for instance isn’t the time for a snooze).


Having children is a very different type of tired. When I was working and tired I knew it would end. I knew I would get a break from it. I knew if I had a holiday ahead that I could work until it arrived and then drop my head, snuggly onto a sunbed and into a prosecco. Now the only thing my head drops onto is Peppa and her pigs. It’s an all consuming and relentless kind of tiredness, which apparently only seems to end when children leave home. I now understand why us mums tend to sport a slight grey under the eye tinge. I might try to find some shoes to co-ordinate if it continues.


I would just like to say sorry to my mummy friends. I believe you now. It’s not a contest I ever really understood and now that I do I applaud you all. So Red Bull if you give us wings, can you make sure they’re jumbo jet sized and accompanied by a business class bed so we can all catch a few winks. Thanks.

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