The Exhausted Mum

Welcome to TheExhaustedMumBlog. I’m thrilled you’re here - I have so much I want to share with you, like how bloody exhausting it is being a mum to 2 children under 2. HELP. I’m here to make a life out of what I love, and what I love is blogging & all things creative. I'll be telling you all about our challenges, daily highs & tantrums and how I juggle daily life (it's a struggle!) with two very young children. I will also be reviewing a number of beauty/fitness/lifestyle/luxury products & places we visit. I'm so excited to start & share my blogging journey with you. There'll be lots more posts over the coming weeks and months so hope you enjoy reading. PS - I cannot be held responsible for the disgraceful language used within this blog. I tend to swear. ALOT. I apologise profusely if it offends you.

[theexhaustedmumblog]

Wrinkles, Mother Gothel & Imedeen

So aside from being fucking exhausted every day of my life, I’m also quite into beauty, in particular, trying to cling to youthfulness with every fibre of my being. I’ve been (jumps for joy) asked to review these amazing little tablets by Imedeen who are a multi-award winning beauty supplement brand.

https://www.imedeen.co.uk/products/skincare-tablet/imedeen%C2%AE-derma-one%C2%AE

I’ve been given the Imedeen Derma One range which apparently helps combat the first signs of ageing and assists with maintaining radiance and moisture to help keep the skin supple and youthful. Featuring the exclusive Marine Complex, vitamin C and zinc, this formula contributes to the protection of cells from oxidative stress, supports normal collagen formation and helps maintain healthy skin.

Any product that mentions the word Collagen, immediately grabs my attention. Supposedly, Collagen is the secret of eternal youth & the Holy Grail within the beauty industry. If you haven’t heard about Collagen, then quite frankly, you must have been

A) hiding under a rock. Or

B) hiding under a pillow. A giant one. Or

C) you have been too busy trying to keep your children alive to even think about wrinkles and Collagen.

Let’s be honest, I need all the help I can get; I haven’t slept for 2 years. And even before children, I thought I hadn’t slept for 34 years. How wrong was I?

Now that I’m 36 - I know, I can’t quite believe it either, and with the extreme lack of sleep that comes with raising two miniature sleep thieves, I look in the mirror & I’m not that impressed with what I see. I’m afraid one day, I will look in the mirror and Mother Gothel, (pre Magical Golden Flower) Tangled, get with the times people, will be staring back at me. Lack of sleep eventually takes a huge toll on your body. It’s been proven. Scientifically. The prospect of this scares me shitless, so I will do whatever it takes and try whatever lotion/potion/tablets are sent my way to assist me on my quest for eternal youth.

I try and do what all the health bloggers suggest; drink more water, eat more avocados etc but the problem is, I bloody love chocolate. I can’t get enough of the stuff. Some days, I have consumed my entire daily calorie allowance in sugar by 10am. It’s what gets me through the days. That and coffee. Lots of coffee. I’m not sure eating my body weight in chocolate, followed by 10 avocados is doing the trick, so…..I need to try something else. I more than anyone need some help in the reversing sun-damage department. When I was living it large in Ibiza back in the 90’s, I thought nothing of frying my face in actual Olive Oil to give me that Ronseal-dipped glow that was all the rage. My mum tried to warn me “you’ll regret it when your older” “your damaging your skin” etc etc etc, but obviously I knew best. Anyway, you know how it is, whatever she said I did the exact opposite.

Unfortunately, I’m now seeing the effects of my rebellious younger years and I have all the sagging, fine lines etc that comes naturally (frying your face like a greasy chip) with ageing.

So……All I have to do is pop 2 pills a day (morning and night) and I’ll supposedly be looking like Cindy Crawford (in her 20’s) in no time at all. (That’s not exactly what the company promises, but I do tend to exaggerate). Easy.

The tablets are not exactly cheap, but if they do what they say, then they’re worth every penny. They promise to;

Help improve skin quality Help improve moisture balance Help skin look more radiant Make skin on face and body feel softer, smoother and more supple It takes around 12-24 weeks to notice any difference so I shall be reporting back in a couple of months and keeping you updated on my Imedeen journey.

An insightful article was written on these little gems back in 2014, so have a read and judge for yourself;

https://www.cosmopolitan.com/uk/beauty-hair/a27766/before-and-after-results-imedeen-skin-supplements-results-cosmo-beauty-lab/

If like me, you believe the hype around anything & everything and you're impatient to get started, then you should most definitely go throw away some money right now; You can get them direct from Imedeen. Boots also stocks them & they’re currently on offer 3 for 2. Grab yourself a bargain 

http://www.boots.com/imedeen-derma-one-120-tablets-10083841

Here’s hoping you won’t even recognise my face in 3 months time (I never expect TOO much)

Sending you all lots of sleepy vibes. The struggle is real people.

I LOVE MY LIFE, I LOVE MY LIFE, I LOVE MY LIFE

Happy Wednesday. The Exhausted Mum :-)

[theexhaustedmumblog]

Mystic Meg & Turtle Heads

I swear my daughters have a sixth sense, it doesn’t matter where I hide, they always find me. Why am I hiding? Well some days, I just want to eat my Maltesers in peace. The other day, I heard Gigi’s approaching footsteps so ducked behind the kitchen counter “mummy?” (Inquisitive) “mummy?” (enraged) “MUUUMMMY?” (Distraught) “Where aaaareeeee you?” (Crying & distraught) Just like that- from 0-100 in a nano-second. I did what any mother would do, I stayed hiding to finish my Maltesers then popped up “aha, you found me” I don’t think she bought it. She could smell the chocolate. She was livid.

Then Kaia, well that girl must be lying in her cot like Mystic Meg, I hold my breath & creep across the bedroom like a mouse (a malnourished one) before I’ve even touched the door handle, her eyes snap open & her head swivels. I mean what the fuck is this all about? I don’t remember anyone informing me about babies having psychic powers. It’s not fair. They already have too many other advantages.

They decide:

1) When to let us sleep (strap in fucker, tonight I’m going to watch Peppa Pig all night, just because I can- deal with it), 2) When to let us eat (the minute you take a bite, one screams blue murder, the other sticks her greasy little fingers straight into the centre of your sandwich then casually starts feeding the floor) Cheers 3) When to let us hold a conversation (you think they’re playing nicely, yet the minute your friend picks up, you sound like you’re at an all night rave & one has decided you’re going to be a human trampoline), and this is by far the worst one 4) When to allow you to go to the toilet.

I think next time Kaia wants something, I’m going to try screaming intermittently (really loudly) every time she goes to grab her favourite toy. Well….I told a slight white lie there, we all know second babies don’t have anything favourite. They’re lucky if they’re allowed to hold a soggy raisin box, but when they do you’ll still question in a slightly excited manic voice with a huge false smile on your face. “What have you got darling? A raisin box? Clever girrrrlllll” Poor bugger just looks at it and claps.

Anyway, you catch my drift, I just want to decide when I can have a wee wee & where at all possible to avoid turtle heads.

Those are my Sunday thoughts.

Happy Sunday. The Exhausted Mum ☺

[theexhaustedmumblog]

The Turd-Burglar & The Unicorn Wand

So I had to share Thursday’s highlight with you. Today...drumroll please 

Kaia Jagdev (11 months) did her first shit on the toilet. I’m so proud of her I could burst. If in my younger years I’d imagined the sorts of events that would make me burst with pride, I’d have had a serious get-a-grip chat with myself. But here I am, at the ripe old age of 36, on a huge high over a turd.

Gia’s assistance was invaluable, she pulled her stool (no pun intended) in front of the toilet consoling “pant, pant, push my darling.”  Kaia looked like an angry Phil Mitchell about to burst a blood vessel, meanwhile, Gia just carried on searching for the turd. I’m seriously worried that when she starts school, I’ll get hauled in front of the Headmistress Office because my daughter is obsessed with orifices.

Anyway….Kaia didn’t like the intervention from the turd-burglar so ripped Gia’s bobble out which resulted in all hell breaking loose. I had one baby mid-turd and a very angry midget trying to yank the other off the toilet.

I succeeded to calm the situation by giving Gia the only thing that was at hand. A Tampax. I told her that this wasn’t any ordinary Tampax but a special Unicorn Wand. It worked. She projected her wand at Kaia “Abracadabra”, kissed her and said “well done gorgeous, I’m so proud of you, you did it sweetheart.”

Ahhhhh situation deflected; bum wiped, turd ejected, peace is restored once more to the Jagdev household. The only problem is, my daughter is now walking round with her “Unicorn Wand” permanently attached to her.

Thank God for Tampax. And Unicorns. I think a trip to The Entertainer is required.

I LOVE MY LIFE, I LOVE MY LIFE, I LOVE MY LIFE

Happy Thursday,

The Exhausted Mum

[theexhaustedmumblog]

2 under 2

“How do you find having 2 babies under 2? Is it difficult?”

“No it’s not too bad now actually.”

Difficult?? Difficult is trying to hold your breath long enough under water to swim a length when you’re 8. I’ll tell you the truth, having 2 babies under 2 is like constantly holding your breath under water until you feel like you might burst, then finally coming up for air. Just keep swimming, must keep swimming, must not let myself drown (in the enormous basket of ever-filling filthy shitty washing).

It’s like someone sneaks into your brain at night & tops it with a cocktail of Sambucca, Vodka, Gin &.... chocolate (I like chocolate) gives it a good old Tom Cruise worthy shake & then seals it back up. Aha, try answer a straightforward question with an intelligent response tomorrow you silly fucker.

Have you ever had a personal training session when you haven’t done anything for about a year then come away walking like you’ve shit yourself? You know what I mean, the time you can’t lower yourself onto the toilet etc. Well imagine feeling like that EVERY single day; as if your body has been through an assault course because you’re so fucking tired.

I want to punch my pre-baby self in the head. When my friends gave birth to their very own sleep thieves/torturers/hourly alarm clocks yet still had the capacity/caring nature to enquire how I was, my response was always “I’m tired” usually followed up with something helpful like; “I got up this morning at 7.30am to do my Joe Wickes HIIT before work” I’m actually quite shocked I still have friends. To any of my friends reading this – thank you.

If I’d known then that was the most energetic I’d feel for the foreseeable, then I may have reconsidered my decision to have children. Not really, I love the little scamps, but you catch my drift. IT’S FUCKING EXHAUSTING!

Trying to get ready in the morning feels like you’ve just run a marathon & collapsed over the finish line, well I don’t know this for a fact as I’ve never run one, but when both babies are fed, dressed, teeth cleaned, hair done & you’ve slapped on enough make-up to pass yourself off as presentable for the day, you swagger downstairs like John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever whilst humming to the Bee Gees I, I, I, I’m staying alive, staying alive. It’s a HUGE accomplishment. Even better than the time I got gifted a chicken wrap for eating elastic bands for a dare. HUGE

Even having a wee wee yes I now speak in baby language brings its own challenge, my youngest is currently at that annoying developmental stage where if I step outside of a 2 meter radius, her entire world is ending. Every time I need the toilet, I have to jam her walker in the toilet door whilst my eldest holds my knees. Whilst relieving myself, I play peekabo around the towel at the maniac in the walker whilst the eldest forces her head between my legs to watch the wee wee coming out. She proceeds to clap “Such a clever girl mummy” (she’s currently toilet training). I then find myself clapping & congratulating myself on my monumental wee wee. FFS. As a final humiliation, I’m then instructed; “kiss your magic knickers mumma for telling you you needed a wee wee”. I won’t tell you what happened next…..

I could probably blog about this subject all day, but the bottom line of this post & what I have learnt is LIE. Lie to your friends & to your family, because if you tell everyone the truth then nobody would have children & nobody would be your friend. FACT. The End.

I LOVE MY LIFE, I LOVE MY LIFE, I LOVE MY LIFE ☺

This is the mantra of the exhausted mum.