There comes a point in the evening when I don’t want to get another glass of water or break up another fight. I don’t want to pick up a fallen blanket and I definitely don’t want to start looking for a headless toy pirate that could be absolutely anywhere in the little shoe box we call home.
There comes a point in the evening when I don’t want to hear the word, ‘mummy’. I know. What a horrible thing to say. There comes a point when I’ve simply had enough.
Sometimes the tiredness is so great that it clouds and smothers all of the beautiful moments. Sometimes the responsibility of lone parenting, of being the one who holds it all together is just too much to bear. And so, my solution? Another early night. But not til I’ve spent an hour or so lost in the world of Kim Kardashian and her band of K-something sisters. The programme has become my drug of choice. My moment to exhale at the end of the day
when all I can do is sit, slack jawed and empty headed. I have nothing left to give and Kim, Khloe, Kourtney and momma Kris are kind enough to ask nothing of me. One, two, three episodes back to back are all it takes to calm my frazzled nerves, regulate my breathing and sedate my over stimulated mind.
There. I’ve said it. My name is Emma and I’m struggling to Keep Up. Night, night.
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