Mother’s Day is fast approaching and the shops are filled with gifts, cards and presents, all designed to thank mums for their hard work.
But if I had a choice this year I think I’d choose a few hours of ‘me time’ rather than the ribbon-wrapped packages on offer.
And I think most mums would agree.
A study out this week revealed that mums get just 17 minutes to themselves every day.
That sounds about right.
Most days in my house it goes a bit like this - breakfast, getting two wee ones dressed, one out to playgroup, another down for a nap, dinner prep, endless loads of laundry, playgroup pick-up, colouring in, jigsaws, changing nappies, bottle washing, dinner served three ways (normal, mashed/chopped up, puréed), book reading, bath times, tidying up, ironing - need I go on!
My youngest is just eight months and since I’ve had her I’ve only read about three books. This may sound a lot but I’m an avid reader, and in that time pre-children I would have devoured at least eight or nine.
Reading is probably the one thing I miss most about being a mum.
I’ve gained so much, of course, and my children are incredibly good fun, and I would never be without them.
But, that said, there is no doubt that I get less time to myself.
This week my mum, who I could not be without, bestowed upon me two full empty hours with nothing to do. I hibernated in her house rather than my own, otherwise I would find something that needed washed/organised/fixed.
And I replied to text messages, read some emails, read some of my book, tweeted, generally faffed about.
It was simply bliss.
Of course, I had to get back to the real world and my own house which currently resembles a gathering place for all things brightly coloured and made from plastic.
So, yes, some time somewhere away from the madness would be just lovely.
Thankfully, I have a break planned. Three nights in England next month visiting old university friends, my brother and his new baby due any day now, and a MS (Multiple Sclerosis) conference where I’m speaking about - yes, you guessed it - pregnancy and MS.
But the irony is, I’m already dreading leaving my girls. I know I’m going to miss and worry about them.
Good thing they’re with their dad - who does almost as good a job as me!