Every single day so far this year – minus last week – has been about getting to grips with a new way of life.
It’s been about balancing on the edge of a cliff face, determined not to fall off. It’s been about struggling to maintain a sense of calm while a million things on my “to do” list whizz through my head.
It’s been about trying to be the best mum I can possibly be, while being the best radio presenter I can possibly be, while being the best copywriter I can possibly be, while being the best blogger I can possibly be, while being the best feature writer I can possibly be. And still remain some sort of wife to my husband. Continue reading
It’s just after 9am on a Wednesday morning.
We’re into the last hour of the show and I’m catching up on tweets. Twitter says I’ve missed a good week on The Gallery.
I’m a bit miffed. Work and mum duties tend to have a habit of getting in the way of the blog at times.
So I ask our lovely producer Adrian to take a picture of me, right now. No fussing with hair. No trying to put my head at a flattering angle. I’m even still biting my nails.
Frog, this is what your mum does when she’s at work. This is me, right now.
For me, this is the best thing about being a mum. It’s those moments of pure glee, when your child does something that makes you laugh, or accepts a cuddle willingly.
I have to remind myself of this fact today, after a difficult afternoon with a grumpy baby. Generally, I would be able to handle the tantrums, but they become a little more tricky when you’ve been up since 3.45am. Continue reading
Everything changes tomorrow. I’ll be ducking out of the early morning nappy battles and CBeebies sessions, swapping morning mum duties for getting behind a microphone. Tomorrow, I will become: Radio Mum.
Although the new show doesn’t actually start until the 9th of January, I have a few days to get Radio Mum down to a tee. In my head, Radio Mum swans into the studio looking all sleek, with a perfectly chosen outfit, manicured nails and glossy flowing Holly Willoughby-esque mane. Radio Mum is organised, having packed the baby’s change bag the night before, right before she laid out the baby’s clothes to save the husband a job in the morning. Radio Mum makes the tea as soon as she gets home from work at 1pm, ready to devote an entire afternoon to play with the baby and be Mum Extraordinaire. Continue reading
No, I’m not pregnant.
But I will be experiencing excruciatingly early mornings very soon.
Because I’ve gone and got myself a new job. A new job that involves getting up at 4am. A new job that involves listening to lots of Take That. A new job that involves chatting. A new job that involves laughing – a lot. A new job that has “dream” written all over it (apart from the 4am alarm call, obviously). Continue reading
Before I became a mum I thought I was busy. I would be in work for 5am (I was a Breakfast Journalist at a large commercial radio station), work bloomin’ hard while I was there, and then go home to have a nap at some point in the afternoon.
Occasionally I’d do a load of washing – back when I only needed to wash a couple of loads a week – and collapse for the rest of the evening on the sofa.
I had no idea what busy was.
As a comparison, I’ve done a little exercise. This is what my life looked like yesterday: Continue reading
Do you ever feel like you’re standing on a bank of shifting sand, trying not to fall over? Ever get that nervous feeling in the pit of your stomach as you look to the future with no idea what it holds? Do you know how it feels not to be able to enjoy the present, because you’re too damn hooked up on what could be around the corner?
It’s Christmas soon. My favourite time of year. And with a toddler (who is yet to toddle) it should be even more exciting. Except it’s not. Because all I can think about is what happens afterwards; what January will hold for my family and I, as we try to negotiate those shifting sands. Continue reading
I’m experiencing some serious overcrowding problems at the moment.
We live in a two bedroom cottage, with a buggy and a million toys and baby paraphernalia stuffed into every nook and cranny. But that’s not the problem.
I feel as if my head is about to explode, as the pressure of a thousand thoughts builds to a worrying crescendo.
It’s the wedding. And work. And the baby. And those table plans. And articles. And meetings. And the radio work. And the accounts to keep on top of. And the copywriting project. And the childcare issues. And the never-ending pile of washing. And the emails – the bloody emails. They’re down to my ankles and up to my neck. Continue reading
When you have a baby, you’re plunged into a world you know nothing about.
No amount of reading or trawling the internet or phoning other mums for advice will help. No matter how many supportive friends or family members come to visit, if you have a question at 1 o’clock in the morning, chances are you’ll have to work out the answer for yourself. Ultimately, it’s your call. Terrifying.
The thing is, I wasn’t used to feeling helpless.
I was used to being the confident one in the room. At work, I was bloody good at my job. I worked hard and I knew what I was doing. Considering I was at work more than I was anywhere else, my “work identity” was me. Continue reading
My stomach is in knots.
There’s a big interview in just two weeks.
It will be the difference between going out to work with my best clothes on, or staying at home wearing my crusty milk-caked dressing gown. Continue reading