I’m currently sitting on my 3 year old’s floor (she’s awake and has been for an hour) it’s 4.40am. I went to bed at 12.51am because I’m mad. I mean I really am mad, after the day I’ve had I should have gone to bed early, I should have listened to my friends and my Mum who advised me to take some time out, especially today. But I didn’t because obviously I’m a glutton for punishment.

Today my brain decided enough was enough and it was time for a wake up call and I’m feeling really grateful that it unfolded the way it did with the lovely ladies who happened to be understanding.

For the past few months I have been running myself ragged, working dusk til’ dawn most days whilst simultaneously being childcare and housekeeper. Sounds like your life too right? We all do it, take on an immense amount of responsibility and agree to more than we should, have a moan about it and then repeat the mistake?!

Well I decided that over the Easter holidays I would juggle the kids, my almighty list of client work and I’d be the best Mum ever by organising days out, baking cookies and catching up with friends. I even decided to host a drawing workshop at my studio for kids and I sold out with requests for additional dates (amazing I thought).

I really loved prepping for this workshop, I hand made 10 sketchbooks, 10 workbooks full of activities that I would teach (tried and tested) and I included Easter treats, art tools and branded boxes to house them.

The day came (this morning) and I had been on it with communication, really professional (because believe it or not I am) and I’d built up a report with the parents who paid upfront. And then it happened. I took my daughter for her pre-school jabs. I was proud of her, so brave. We jumped in the car and headed to Grandma’s where she’d stay for the duration of my workshop at 12pm.

My husband drove past, flagged me down waving my phone at me. Your workshop started at 10, everyone is waiting for you! I checked the clock in my car. 10.15. Fuck. How had I done this? After all my careful preparation, the love, care and passion that I put into the planning, how had I possibly have given MYSELF the wrong time????

I know how. I literally took on too much. My brain shut down, quite literally it was over-loaded and had blanked out important information, probably the most important information of the day. But in true Supermum style I cracked on, no flapping or tears, I just drove to my studio, made my embarrassed and honest apologies and held the work shop. Granted it started 30mins late and I was down 2 parents and 2 kids (understandably) as they just couldn’t wait for me but actually the workshop was a huge success.

Once over, I tidied up, I sorted my own kids out and I broke down (out of sight!). Something had to give and this was my warning.

This afternoon I realised I was also more worried about what my husband would think of me. I felt like a failure and just so embarrassed. As it turns out he just thought I’d been an idiot and wasn’t the least bit judgemental. He was worried about me, wondered if I was forgetful because I was pregnant (no chance) and then suggested I do some exercise or meditate (hoping he’s not calling me fat and he’s just looking after my well-being).

Anyway, the point I make is that everyone has a breaking point and today I reached mine. I’m not dwelling on the workshop. It went well, the kids enjoyed it and the parents were fab. But I will dwell for a little while on the fact that I let myself reach this stage when I’m normally very self-aware. It scared me! My body literally had to tell me to stop and assess what my mind needed.

So I will stop and I’ll assess and then I’ll learn from today and move forward.

It’s now 5.04 btw, AB will be up in 30 mins so I’m going to have a catnap 🤦‍♀️

Much love


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