{FAMILY} Did I Shampoo My Hair?

I wake up at 5am to the smell of dog shit and a toddler tugging on my hair.

It’s the Friday of a long weekend – not exactly the way I had envisioned the start of my “day off”. I guess that’s the beauty of parenting (and housing a 15-year-old dog with wavering control of her bowels thanks to old age) – you never really know how your morning is going to unfold.

I look over resentfully at my snoring husband, and roll out of bed like a log dead-falling over the cliff of a waterfall. Eyes squinted, I navigate my way through the dark room, doing my best to avoid stepping in the piles of poop that plop in a trail towards the bedroom door. As I clean up, my ears ring with squeals of discontent that echo down the hallway. Sibling rivalry thrives most in the wee hours of the morning, it seems.

I throw together a half-assed breakfast and settle my kids in at the table, and then rush to the bathroom for my never-to-be-missed daily shower.

If I’m lucky, I can make it through the 10 minutes of shower serenity without interruption – without a whiny voice pleading for a drink, or a shriek from a disgruntled sibling, or a tiny toddler’s palm streaking down the glass door of my shower like a scene from a horror movie, begging for me to come out and grant “uppies”.

Yes, if I’m lucky, I’m left alone for a whole 10 minutes. And as I squeeze shampoo into my cupped palm, my thoughts run wild.

I mentally scribe my day’s to-do list. I devise drafts of articles that are yet to be written. I dream up epic family getaway ideas, and renovation plans for my house. And then it happens.

Did I shampoo my hair? 

Unsure, I cup my hand, squeeze a blob of scented hair soap into my palm, and let my thoughts wander some more…

Did I just use conditioner or shampoo?

Untrusting of my meagre memory, I squeeze a squirt of shampoo into my hand, lather up, and wash my hair (again?).

Shit. Now I really don’t know. Was that conditioner?

My thoughts have wandered again and I don’t know if I’m done, or if I’ve missed step 2 of my hair-washing routine. I run my fingers through my hair. Does it feel slippery as it does after a post-conditioned rinse?

Somewhat satisfied, I step out of the shower into my towel, and it all comes back to me.

Yep, I’ve just shampoo’d my hair – THREE TIMES.

{FAMILY} Daylight Savings Is All About The Feelings

While daylight savings time may provide us with an added hour of evening sun in the Summer months, it certainly doesn’t save my sanity.

For as long as I can remember, the twice-a-year tradition has sparked the same old controversial conversation: do we get to sleep in, or do we have to wake up earlier once the clocks have changed? And this question has usually led to a long-winded tongue twister about feelings.

“OK, so if we set the clocks forward, then it feels like it’s 6am, but really it’s 7am.”

“No, no, no, it’s feels like we’re getting up earlier, not sleeping in…”

“Wait, ok so the one in October, feels like we’re sleeping in?”

daylight savings

I just want more sleep.

The queries drive my husband nuts, and make my head spin. I just want to know if I’m going to get an extra hour of sleep!

When you’re a parent, earning an extra hour of sleep is more of a win than actually winning the lottery. Sleep is sacred – and seldom.

So when the universe doles us a bad hand, and our calculations conclude that not only are we “losing an hour of sleep”, but our children are going to lose their minds trying to make sense of the extra daylight at bedtime – responding like a wild pack of blood-hungry zombies, of course we’re going to experience all sorts of feelings.

When it comes to the bi-annual tradition of time change, I know I’m not the only mama who changes the clocks with her fingers crossed, hoping that this is the one that will save my sanity and grant me that extra 60 minutes of sleep.

Unfortunately, this is not the blessed time. Because when my kids wake me up bright and early at 6:30am tomorrow morning, it will feel like 5:30am.

I’m off to “Spring forward” to a week’s worth of sleepless nights and my sanity will not be spared.