We’ve all been there, that all too familiar Sunday night feeling of Monday morning literally being hours away.
And right now, it’s lurking around the corner.
I love Mondays, seriously, I love them. It’s not so much as the fact it’s Monday, I guess I just love the life I now have and don’t take it for granted. Don’t get me wrong, I do have some of those “Monday Wanker” weeks but I try not to let it get me down and take a positive from the day.
Paul is pretty lucky. He works a Monday to Friday job as a Graphic Designer and maybe I’m biased, but I think he’s amazing at what he does. I get such a kick out of seeing his design work on the streets of Northampton, on the side of a bus or on the front of a CD cover in a supermarket. Not only do I get a kick because I know he created that work, but I feel proud because I know how hard it is for him to switch off when he gets home. Paul may be in the office from Monday to Friday, but his head is there 24/7.
I see him beat himself up when he feels he’s not done his best, I pour him that glass of wine because he’s running late on a deadline and knows he’s got to get it done, I give him a hug when he’s kicking himself for not pushing himself forward and when he points out his work to me, I give a smile and tell him how proud he makes me because I know just what he’s had to do to achieve those deadlines.
For Paul, Mondays can be either one way or the other. He already knows he’s going to have a stressful week but, on a weekly rotation it’ll either be a good Monday because we will have Lyla and George for the full week, or it’ll be a sad Monday because he’s just said his goodbyes as they head off to school and back to their Mum for a week.
I hate the words “joint custody”, I’m not sure there even is a nicer way to word it, but for now, let’s call it “equal parenting”. For those parents who have to parent equally, you have my respect, I’ve seen and experienced first hand how heartbreaking it is having to be separated from your child for a period of time and it really isn’t something anyone could relate to emotionally unless they had to do it themselves.
For Paul, tomorrow is going to be a good Monday. We will be a party of five for a whole week. The house will be chaos, I will barely spend any time alone with Paul and the kids will ruling the roost.
I am a full time working Mum. My Mondays are always the same. I’ve come to accept that all Mondays feel just the same as every other day and so I just crack on with it.
When I first began blogging, I was a carer for adults with dementia. I loved it. But sadly I had to make a decision and it wasn’t something I found easy. I had to walk away from the career.
I was working between 80-100 hours a week when I first moved in with Paul, a mixture of shift patterns but mostly long 15 hour days for three weeks in a row, with no break during the day and covering night shifts when needed. I moved Residential Homes and worked less hours but even then, 50 hour weeks were hard and after seeing too much that I was unable to change alone, I walked out and started an office job. I now work 43 hours a week and my mental health and wellbeing has improved dramatically, Paul and the kids now feel like they have me back again mentally, physically and emotionally. I’m not saying I will never go back to care but right now, I’m doing what’s best for me and my family.
I’ve never been a “Monica” when it comes to keeping the house immaculate. When we are both working a full time job each and then come home to homework, picking Nev up from dance twice a week as well as all the other parenting duties, neither of us wants to come home and clean. We make sure light chores are done every evening but we want to enjoy being together as a family, by the time we are both home from work it’s always pushing 8pm before we even start cooking as it is.
The only thing I ask is that the lounge is always clean (because it’s my favourite room and too small to be messy). I’m a lucky Mum, Nev maybe a teenager but she cleans. Very often I come home to find she’s hoovered the house, cleaned the bathrooms AND done the washing. No, she’s not for hire. My days off and a Saturday morning are when we go for it with the cleaning.
Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to not have to go to work. I’d love to be at home all day drinking tea and chilling out in front of the tv with Holly & Phil but I can’t. Retiring at 33 just isn’t on the cards for me yet.
As most people are aware, I am also on the menopause. I don’t hide it. I’m pretty open about it, hell, it’s given me big tits so I’m going to shout it from the rooftops. But seriously, it makes me tired. Menopause and anaemia. Double blow. I could sleep standing up. Most days I cry through total exhaustion, not just the physical exhaustion but the mental exhaustion of trying to manage and control my mood swings every day and trying to regain some control of my life. Some days I miss the old me. But the old me didn’t have what I have now so I remind myself how fortunate I am, my life is so much better now than it was four years ago and I’m seriously fortunate. If putting on extra weight, constantly feeling itchy and bloated, sweating and crying is the price I have to pay for having a lovely home and a beautiful family, who am I to complain?
Our family works on many factors but one of the main ones is understanding each other on our not so good days.We know when Paul has had a bad day he just needs lots of cuddles and a listening ear, we know Nev just needs to be left alone when she’s hormonal and we have to knock the bedroom door before entering, if Lyla is sad she needs Daddy’s attention and lots of it, if George is feeling unsure we just need to boost his confidence and if I’m Menopausal, they all know to just leave me be until I’m ready to talk. I don’t think we’ve all had a bad day on the same day so the house is usually full of laughter as everyone sets out to make the other laugh.
Mondays in our house are the same as every other day, it’s about sticking together as a family and working as a unit facing whatever the week brings.
Right now. I’ve got that Monday feeling, the happy feeling in my tummy that reminds me we will all be together again tomorrow night. The happy Monday feeling that makes me feel content that I have a life I am happy with, paul is happy with and my kids are happy with.
My family starts with a Monday.
P.S Totally unrelated but Paul just said the word “fanny” and in 3.5 years I’ve never heard him say it so I feel like we just reached a new height in our relationship.