.When your baby arrives you are shown how to feed it and bath it. Instinct also kicks in. And if that fails....there are a million books on how to stop a crying baby, how to educate and nurture.
No one told me - NO ONE - that when they get into their twenties you need a bloody Masters Degree in coping. Dealing with your own daily shit and anxieties whilst providing a full-time counselling service for your 'grown-up' children.
Don't get me wrong - I love my kids to the moon and back. Or somewhere even further away.
But I am running out of room in my tiny brain to juggle everyone's things (things - the best word in the English language. It can literally mean anything - and extremely useful if your brain is full of fluff like mine).
When I had my second baby I cried. How could I provide the same amount of love and attention to two little beans? It just happens. Until they reach their teens. Then it gets REALLY HARD. The issues aren't as simple as 'where's my dummy' or 'I don't like peas' or 'I need a n'ug' or 'I just pooed on the stairs'.
The shit (sorry - no pun intended) gets real...
'I can't afford new tyres for my car' or 'can you pay my parking ticket cos I haven't got enough money in my account' or 'I need help with writing tomorrow's lesson plan' or 'I need to be in Manchester in like five minutes...what am I going to do...' and so on.
Proper serious 'empty my purse' or 'lose a whole evening relaxing with feet up, a bar of chocolate and a cup of tea' type shit.
To be fair though...it is feeling pretty horrendous right now because I have started a new contract. I need to concentrate at work. I have a lot to take in. I need to find something suitable to wear every day. I need to decide what day to wash my hair. I need to be able to decide if I don't wash my hair will it look fuzzy by the end of the day. I need to decide which shoes. Etc.
And I forgot. Mandy had the bright idea that we both needed to join the brand new gym round the corner from me.
We agreed that if we don't go once a week AT LEAST...we're cancelling the membership. That simple.
It opens tomorrow and we're already off to a bad start.
We don't want to go on the day it opens (it will be far too busy) - we can't go on Wednesday as Mandy has plans. We can't go on Thursday as I am getting my nails done after work. We can't go on Friday night as...erm...there was a reason. I just can't remember.
We can't go the following week as I am in Italy.
Great - that's two weeks worth of the first month gone.
We'll just have to go twice a week once I get back from the sun. Yep. Twice in one week. Which will probably coincide with one of the beans needing my attention. For lifts or a pep talk or some general motherly advice. Then I will be too brain-dead to get off the sofa.
And besides - the gym just makes my hair sweaty and wrecks my weekly hair-washing timetable - plus I will have to keep on top of the pit hair.
Today is bean two's birthday. He's 22 and gorgeous. But he looked like this when he was born...(I posted this on his page on FB...I think he's hidden it...NOT A CLUE WHY!)