Jennifer Anniston? I want my life back.

There was a moment, in which my tired and rung out mind tried to connect with what my eyes were actually seeing, and then when it did finally catch up, I experienced a physical shock as the realisation of what was about to happen went straight through me, as if I had been thumped hard in the groin.

I had turned my back for two minutes.

And now this.

Sometimes I do wonder if there has been some sort of mistake with the gods of fate, like maybe my ‘Life Menu’ and Jennifer Anniston’s ‘Life Menu’ got mixed up, and actually maybe it is her that should be cleaning runny toddler poo out of the dog’s bed, and it is I that should have been off having glamorous and rampant sex with Brad Pitt.

(And yes, I know it has been a while since they broke up…  ok. I will re-phrase that, I know it has been more than a while since they broke up, but I will just never get over it ok? I just NEVER WILL! THEY WERE PERFECT TOGETHER! What was he thinking?)

Sometimes, ESPECIALLY on days like today, I occasionally catch myself looking up to the heavens beseechingly, as if to ask the universe if it is enjoying watching me get no sleep, trip up, drop a pint of milk, nearly run my car in to a parking meter and finally, scoop poo out of Doodle’s cushioned fortress.

And then usually, ESPECIALLY, on days like today, it gives me it’s answer.

‘Mammy Mammy, wake up! It is light outside; it is time to get up! Mammy Mammy, I did a wee in my bed!’

Jennifer Anniston eat your heart out.

I prize my eyes open and stare at my bright eyed and bushy tailed son. He is holding his distinctly moist and clammy hand out and positioning it under my nose with a big grin on his face.

How? How? HOW?

How is it possible that after waking me up literally every twenty minutes in the night, to ask for all manner of crap, including but not limited to –

1am – He wanted a cheese and onion cement mixer.

2am – He could hear a mallard. (Not a duck, a ‘mallard!’)

3am – He needed to speak to me about, and I quote ‘borrowing a fiver.’

4am – He needed to ask me if I remembered a specific episode of Ben and Holly where Nanny Plum lost her magic license and they all…. who cares?

5am- I could hear him singing Lady Gaga ‘telephone.’

That he is now this bright eyed and bushy tailed?

The stench of baby wee is overpowering.

I need coffee.

I am a bad mummy.

I get him changed but I do not brush his teeth.

I need proper coffee.

I put his shoes on but I do not brush my hair or his.

I fling on my coat over my pyjamas and grab my sunglasses.

If I am to get through today I need a Starbucks a hell of a lot more than I need a shower.

I am a bad mummy.

I don’t feed him before we go.

‘We will just quickly dash through the drive through’ I mumble as I haul him in to his car seat and he happily tells me about his favourite yellow digger ‘then we will come home and start the day’ I interrupt him.

He sings all the way there, in between asking me every random question known to man.

What is that birdie doing up there?

Where are the clouds?

Is there a man in that van?

Does he like diggers?

Where is that ambulance going?

I spend the journey answering his onslaught as best as I can, given that I am operating on limited battery life.

I don’t know.

No idea.



Somewhere far away…

The end is in sight.

But of course, the universe knows I haven’t brushed his teeth, that I am still in my pyjamas, and that I do not clearly deserve a break, and the bitch is going to make me pay.


‘Come on baby’ I smile through gritted teeth pulling the car in to the disabled space, looking up to the heavens and grimacing, refusing to be beaten ‘GAME ON universe!

‘We will run in and out, it is too early, no one else is here, no one will see us, quick, quick, quick!’

I lean my full weight on the heavy glass door and push it open, half carrying half dragging the toddler behind me, and oh the release! Oh the heavenly smell of Starbucks!

The intense and entirely intoxicating aroma of coffee immediately envelope’s me in a big fat hug and I am at one. I can feel my heartbeat returning to normal, it doesn’t matter that my morning breath could strip paint, it doesn’t matter that one side of my hair is stuck to my head and the other is kinked and greasy. It doesn’t matter that I have mascara smudged under my eyes, and that I have had no sleep.

I am relaxing. Soon I shall have coffee, the world is just how it should be.

‘Everything will be ok now.’ I smile at Addy like a druggy high on glue and cake ‘They have caffeine in this place. Mummy will be ok now.’

As he looks back up at me, he senses his moment and asks me for the ridiculously overpriced pancakes that I would usually say no to, but at that moment, lost in the saviour scent of my Mecca,  I just nod and smile and think ‘baby you can have whatever you want now we are here.’

Oh and how the universe laughed.

Because of course, who then trundled in behind us?

My ex-boyfriend.

Of course! 

But not only my ex boyfriend, oh no.

That wouldn’t have been awful enough.

NO, in walked MY ex boyfriend and the girl he cheated on me with, his now wife. 

And they were both immaculately dressed and ready for work, smiling secret smiles and laughing between themselves.

They saw me.

I saw them.

And then of course, we all had to make small talk.


And as if that wasn’t bad enough, because quite clearly, the universe by this point wanted to finish me off completely, Addison decided at that very moment to start straining.

Did I mention we are trying to get him out of nappies, but he hasn’t quite got the hang of it yet?

‘Mammy! I am pooing!’

(And of course I had nothing with me. So he had to travel home with a naked bum. But it was ok, because my red face kept him warm.)

And that was my morning.

So now, if you don’t mind, while Addison is crashed out in bed, I am going to go and dig a very deep hole, and bury myself in it with what remains of my self-esteem.

Jennifer Anniston? I want my life back.

*I am aware Thru is not the correct spelling of Through. Just so you are aware.


10 Comments on “Jennifer Anniston? I want my life back.

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  2. I’m not sure which bit I sympathise with you most on. I’m afraid I did have quite a giggle though, but not about the Jen vs Angelina debate. That’s way too serious to giggle about. What was Brad thinking? Jen is lovely. Hope you get some sleep and some good antibacterial hand wash!

  3. Since having my baby I often think ‘Angelina Jolie I want my life back!’ But in this case that would make me the other woman and that just won’t do for sisterhood. I’d just settle for my old life where I got 8 hours straight sleep at night – or is that just plain greedy?

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