(Original diary excerpt from 15th October 2015)

My current Netflix obsession is “Orange Is the New Black”. Probably because, after 5 days stuck at home with an ill 4 year old and a ‘refusing to feed’ 5 month old, I am currently living in my own kind of prison and misery loves company.

I understand that feeling of being watched when you take a shower, of sleeping with one eye open, hearing screams in the night, constantly being ordered about, living a life of routine, eating tasteless goo (well tasting it to make sure it’s not too hot for the baby!), not being able to wear make-up and looking like shit. Atleast the inmates at Litchfield get to have sex and eat with 2 hands (ok I should probably reword that sentence in light of it being an all female prison but I’m too tired to press backspace!). They even have an onsite hairdresser – I can barely muster the energy to brush mine!

And so another looong night in the prison of sleep thieves begins! Having just finished my duty of feeding the baby (probably a feed he doesn’t need but if it gets him to sleep quicker I don’t care anymore!) and while he falls asleep to a light show and the tunes of some repetitive nursery rhyme that for whatever reason keeps him calm, I sit typing away and listening to hubby trying to soothe our boy back to sleep. The tummy ache (or ‘tummy egg’ as LJ calls it and the reason I have been stuck inside all week) has reared its ugly head again and we no longer know if it’s a real ache or because the smarty pants has twigged it gets him attention. As a doting mother I should probably go in there but the competitive side of me thinks ‘Haha I already got my one back to sleep!’ Of course this is not the best attitude to adopt. After all this is just a blip in LJ’s sleeping since he’s ill and pretty soon we’ll be back to my boy being the only one waking up – better to play the tag team thing. I should go in. Then again, it has gone awfully quiet. Maybe I’ll just try and get a bit of sleep in myself. After all, a prisoner of these blonde, blue eyed-boys (the kind that steal your breath and make your heart feel like it’s going to explode whilst also driving you to the brink of exhaustion and insanity) needs to be alert in order to survive this life sentence.

Lights out Ladies! The Warden makes the rules, not me!

Sweet Dreams –

Mama Atzi xxx

I love my boys more than anything but there are some days where I get soccer punched by that feeling of never dancing again. That moment where I remember that I used to get paid to do what I love AND see the world! I used to wake up in a different city or country everyday. Now I wake up in a different bed or with a different child lying with his foot in my face or stealing my covers. I actually got pushed out of bed onto the floor once-by a 2 year old!! How is that even possible?!

I used to shimmy around on stage in sparkly costumes and huge feathers. My photo must be in people’s holiday albums all over the world! I used to be tanned. I used to be toned!

When I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror now I see a version of myself I no longer recognize: The greying hair with the funny post-baby bald patches, the t-shirt that’s covered in vomit stains and something else I’d rather pretend isn’t there, the black circles under my eyes from lack of sleep (granted I didn’t sleep much in my former life either but for VERY different reasons!), the extra stress lines because you never stop worrying about your babies from the moment they are placed in your arms.

I’m lucky in some ways. I’m probably back to the same weight I was then. I may even be smaller. I mean I’ve had no time to eat since Baby M was born and God only knows how many calories I have burned off in the endless trips to and from bedrooms, picking up and putting down my gorgeously chubby baby and never-ending walks up and down the hallway trying to get the baby to sleep. And I’m breastfeeding so I can’t fill up on alcohol every night (plus a fiver doesn’t go as far as it did in the crew bar!)

And no-one warns you about the breastfeeding cramps-it’s like doing 200 sit ups every time you feed in those early days!

So maybe I could still pull off that sequined bikini?! Hmmm.

There are days I really do think about going back. Running away to the dock and jumping onboard the next ship that would take me….(seriously so tired but clearly so addicted to my phone I was able to write that last sentence having nodded off).

However, I am no longer flexible in any way and lugging a 9 kilo baby around all day takes its toll on a back that wasn’t all that stable to begin with. I probably could still plaster on that make-up and brush off my showbiz smile but actually I kinda prefer my Mama smile these days. The one I reserve just for my babies, the ones that see me as a star without the make-up or the costumes.

Part of me will always miss that life and will always yearn to go back but it’s time to look at what I’ve got instead of what I’ve lost.

So next time I look in the mirror I’ll look past the wrinkles and focus on the laughter lines instead. Some I got from my memories onboard but the biggest ones, the best ones, I got since becoming a Mama.

Sweet Dreams –

Mama Atzi xxx