It seems that I have a small patch if black. What I mean is that there is a small amount if time I can not actually remember much about. Before you freak out and tell me to go to the hospital, let me explain.

When dad passed away, I switched off. Things were happening, people were moving, on the outside I was moving too, but in reality I was just getting washed along with the crowd. I did what was expected, I acted the way your supposed to, but really I just kept floating.

I was going through the motions. It was a survival method. I needed to ‘be’ normal to ‘feel’ normal. I was just trying to survive grief.

Being pregnant was possibly the best thing for me. I shudder to think how I would have coped otherwise. Knowing I had a sweet little button growing inside me kept me afloat. So inside my survival shell, I focused on her.

Between ‘attempting’ normal and growing Indi, I must have turned my attention switch to off. I can not tell you what happened in the news, what songs were playing on the radio or what was happening on home and away. All I can tell you is, I went back to school for two weeks, people were overly gentle with me, Christmas sucked and I felt like a walrus. That there is the entirety of what happened between November 20th – February 10th.

Then came life with the tiny human. May as well wipe the next two months out too. Routine and learning, and trying to sleep was all that happened in those months. Needless to say, I had some catching up to do.

I really only figured out I was out of the loop because I started listening to the radio again. The only superpower I have (besides crazy mamma hormones) is music, being a dance teacher I had to be up to date on as much music as possible. To my absolute disgust, Aidan knew more about the songs (who sung them and what the words were) than I did. Then and there I knew I had to pick up my game.

About mid August I figured out who 1 direction were (yes, I’m pretty grateful to be behind the times on that one). Thanks to bad tv promos and constant advertising I think I’m as up to date as I want to be on this boy band hysteria (I was a backstreet girl myself, bouncing around with a hair brush singing at the top of my lungs. Fee I know you remember :p).

The enormity of my black out period really only hit me about a week ago, as Aidan and I sat down ready to watch the new season of Sons if Anarchy. Pretty excited, we put the baby to bed and broke out the chocolate. The ‘previously on sons’ began to roll through and both Aidan and I sat up straight. ‘What the frick was going on?’.

Being in a cocoon means you miss out on everything, bad and good. In this case I missed the whole of series 4 of Sons. To be honest I was super pissed. Everyone was raving about how full on this season was and how good the story line was. Luckily I don’t mind couch time watching telly, so I pushed through. We have spent the best part of the last week trying to catch up. Between a teething, Olympic crawling, sooky mammals girl, a husband on night shift and lack of sleep we have finally caught up with everybody else. I. Am. Drained. Who said watching tv wasn’t hard?

You know that feeling when you go back to work after a nice relaxing holiday? You took the holiday because you were stress and needed to unwind, only to find that you have twice the amount of work to catch up on. That’s how I feel at times. I have a box of presents that need to be posted – past birthdays, engagements, housewarming gifts. I have a list of things to do that date back to when I was pregnant. I have to google things I read in the newspaper just to know what they are talking about. Sometimes I feel like I was in a coma and only just woke up!

I’m slowly catching up. I doubt I’m going to get there anytime soon, but I’m getting there. Knowing my luck, I will be just about caught up then decide to pump out another tiny human, screwing up all that hard work. Can I play the exhausted mamma card permanently?

Much love peeps xxx

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