I miss having a job.
I miss doing something that I’m good at.
I miss adult conversation that’s not centred around the kids.
I wish I embraced working when I was a working mum.
I miss commuting into the city and having time to read a book on the train.
I feel guilty that all I ever wanted to do be at home full-time with the kids, and now that I am, I’m still not happy.
I wish I could ‘make the most’ of this time.
I wish I didn’t feel resentment towards being at home all the time.
Every day feels like groundhog day.
I’m not sure motherhood is meant to be like this.
I love my kids but being with them 24/7 is draining.
I’m worried I’m not appreciating them enough because I don’t get a break.
I think I’m doing it wrong.
I really do love them so much.
I think they hate me 90% of the time.
I thought I’d be easier.
I bloody hate cooking.
I don’t want them to grow up.
I know I’ll want to go back to this stage when they’re older.
I would love to have the perfect balance.
I don’t know what the perfect balance is.
I’m sick of the sound of my own voice.
I would like to stay in bed for a whole day.
I miss work Christmas do’s, work politics, and all the things that irritated me when I was working!
I’m a really shit housewife.
I’m not sure I’m meant to admit to any of this.