When I embarked on the roller coaster ride that is Motherhood, I knew that there were many things in my life that would change, and sacrifices would have to be made. I was prepared for the additional expense that comes with the Baba, things like the expensive baby digerie-doos that you are sure you need but never use in the end, the updating of wardrobes every 3 months, the toys that develop all sorts of wonderful cognitive and intelligent ways in your Baba. I was prepared to give up on my impulsive social life. I accepted that my body was going to change and that I would probably never be able to do another jumping jack again without a little bit of wee coming out.
I also knew that sleep was going to be elusive and something that would come and go. I realised that the perfect night would change from dinner and dancing to just being able to sleep for 12 hours straight. I anticipated many worried nights checking on breathing and looking after her if she was ill. I even embraced the cris crossed stretch marks that scatter across my mummy tummy - to a degree.
But in all the books I read preparing me for motherhood, all the preparation I did, not once did I hear or read that I would have to say goodbye to ever seeing the bottom of my laundry basket, ever again. I swear to God I don't think my washing machine has ever seen as much action as it has in the last 18 months. It's constant. Every time I get close to the bottom the clothes decide to mate and produce clothes babies and I am right back where I started. It is MOUNTAINOUS! I have not once been able to get on top of it in the whole entire time I have been a mother.
So today I morn the loss of an empty laundry basket and embrace the constant and ever present view of my jam packed and overloaded clothes horses and pray every night that my washing machine doesn't just die on me from sheer overwork and under pay....