But tonight readers, I am exhausted.
I’m exhausted of being on my feet all day, as I have a two-year old that can get into trouble within a second of taking my eyes off him.
I’m exhausted of disturbed nights, as my ever-growing bump means I have a bladder the size of a pea. And of not being able to fall asleep again for hours afterwards, battling with sciatica, heartburn and a snoring husband.
I’m exhausted of being woken up again at 6am every single day to the sound of my oldest son dragging his duvet into our bed. And then my alarm going off 15 minutes later during the week, reminding me of the painfully early start times of schools in Dubai.
I’m exhausted of the school drop-off and pick-up in 40’C. And of my two-year old refusing to walk. And of him falling asleep before we get home, so he’s a dead weight to lift. And then having a 4-year old bouncing around the house every lunchtime when all I want him to do is nap.
I’m exhausted with work. With the emails, the meetings, the deadlines, the phone calls, and of the chasing money at the other end.
I’m exhausted of trying to work out what to cook the boys every night. And of standing in the kitchen lovingly cooking it, before they pick through it, screw up their faces, and demand something sweet instead.
I’m exhausted of the grocery shopping, making sure that the fridge is always stocked with what we need for packed lunches the next day. And opening lunch boxes the very next afternoon to discover half of it left inside.
I’m exhausted of bath times, of bedtimes, and of threatening to shut bedroom doors to keep them quiet so that they fall asleep. And of the clock ticking round to ‘late’ every night, before I’m even had a chance to enjoy the peace and quiet.
I’m exhausted of planning my life around flights, trips back to the UK, slotting people into a ever-complicated calendar, around school terms, around nursery holidays, around due dates, around visitor timetables.
I’m just exhausted.
And I’m not telling you this tonight for sympathy, as I definitely don’t want or deserve that. I couldn’t be happier with my lot and I wouldn’t swap for the world.
I am telling you this because I think it’s important to be honest. Because despite the smiley Instagram photos in the sun, the blog posts about gratitude, the reviews of exciting things I have done, places I have been, and things I have tried, I have moments when I want to curl up in my bed and hide away from the world.
Hide away from life.
Just like every parent.
And so tonight, I am going to run a hot bath, paint on a face mask, watch my bump jump around in the bubbles, and climb into my pyjamas for an early night with my pregnancy pillow.
And tomorrow, I will be OK again.
I will be OK.
Just like always.